


October Writing Challenge

by EchoingHowls



Category: Banana Bus Squad, The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Goretober 2018, I enjoy tweaking the usual idea of things, I love learning, I love symbolism, Like spinning things on their head, Lots of Symbolism, Mild Gore, Ooo it's my favorite, Oops, some of them read like poems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:11:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoingHowls/pseuds/EchoingHowls
Summary: @aqueenofokay's October Writing Challenge!I'm super excited to do this and hope it ends up okay!(all prompts from @aqueenofokay)((give her tons of love <3))





	1. Prayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aqueenofokay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueenofokay/gifts).



Day 1: Vampires

Brick houses sat watchfully in a valley.  
The sun rose steadily as the people awoke, early smoke rising from chimneys as mothers stoked fires to warm their houses.  
A party of young men carried the corpse of a deer out of the surrounding woods, where the bonfire in the middle of the town was already being started by young boys.  
Teenage boys carried the men's weapons for them, their labored breath billowing in small clouds behind them.  
Young maidens yawned as they helped their mother cook breakfast.  
Children began running aloof outside, some of them coming too close to the growing bonfire for a mother's comfort.  
A group of older men walked steadily back to town, away from the graves that crested the hills.  
Their eyes were heavy and dark, but they didn't stop until they reached the church.  
They vanished without a word.

Evan watched the town slowly come to life through the safety of his window, eyes dark with lack of sleep.  
The group of men left the church, all of them separating to their houses where wives awaited eagerly.  
The priest walked out and stood on the steps of the church, overlooking the town.  
The sun shone on his black robes, the rope around his waist drawn tight.  
Then, quickly and deliberately, the priest turned back toward the church, his breath clouding behind him.  
Evan watched the priest for a moment before pulling on his tailcoat and grabbing his top hat off the coat hanger, hurrying out the door.

Walking quickly, Evan followed the cobble road to the spire-like building, vanishing into the holy building without a moment's pause.  
"Any word?"  
He called into the limited light of the church, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest.  
There was a sigh as a candle made its way toward the lanterns on the wall, slowly rising and igniting the second flame before moving slowly down again, illuminating Father Brock's face.  
"No Evan, the scouts didn't see anything."  
The priest moved calmly, slowly flowing to each lantern and lighting the candle inside.

"The people are starting to question my actions,"  
Brock said, lighting the final candle before blowing his out.  
"Soon they will want an explanation."  
Evan paused a moment before walking closer to the priest.  
"Father, I know what I saw."  
Brock turned toward Evan, his expression relaxed and confident.  
"Evan, I cannot tell the people there is a _demon_ running ary."  
"Why not?"  
"Because those creatures don't dare enter this town! You of all people should know the power of my blessing."  
Evan frowned, turning his gaze to a painting hanging on a wall.  
The angel looked eerie in the flickering candlelight.  
"But Father, what if your blessing wore off? You may have saved me but Jonathan-"  
"Jonathan has entered Heaven! Why would he want to stay in the mortal realm when he could have eternal glory and joy with God?"  
Evan paused, looking back at Brock.  
"What if he was trapped here by the devil?"  
Brock blinked, scanning Evan's face before scoffing.  
"I'd say that's blasphemous! If a demon had wrestled Jonathan from the glory of Heaven then I would know."  
Evan stared at Brock for a moment longer, then nodded.  
"Alright. Thank you, Father."  
Brock paused, then said.  
"I'm calling off the scouts. The people need their sleep."  
Evan nodded, shoving the knot in his stomach down.  
"Very well."  
Evan turned and headed toward the door, pulling his hat on and opening the door before Brock called him.  
"Evan,"  
He turned toward the priest, a faint wisp of hope in his heart as he turned to look back.  
"Don't speak to me about demons and devils. Pray for forgiveness tonight."  
Evan clenched his fist out of sight of Brock.  
"Yes, Father."

Evan closed the door behind him, watching as people cooked the deer that had been hunted for the families that couldn't hunt themselves.  
He would have to go there for food soon.

Evan growled to himself as an icy breeze cut through, making him pull his coat tighter.  
He hated winter.  
He cast a glance at the cemetery on the hill.  
He knew what he had seen.  
And he would prove it.  
Even if it killed him.

**

Evan watched as snowflakes dappled the frozen ground around him.  
The full moon was muffled by the thick cloud cover, the warm orange glow beside him being emitted by the lantern beside him.  
He pulled his coat tighter around him as another gust of wind dragged icy claws through his skin.  
He'd prove Father Brock wrong.  
Or die trying.  
A scream curled into the blackened night, making Evan forget his numbing fingers.  
He leaped to his feet and grabbed the lantern, running down the hill as another scream tore through the town.  
Lanterns were igniting as he ran down the street, startled and drowsy eyes following him as he finally reached the source.  
He threw the door open, then immediately emptied his stomach on the floor.

On the floor, laid a pale woman, her eyes wide and mouth hanging agape. Blood streamed down her chin and her stomach was torn open, intestines strewn about the wooden floor as blood covered the kitchen.  
On her throat were two puncture wounds.

There was a chorus of running steps behind him, and Evan took a stumbling step back as Father Brock entered the house.  
"My Lord..."  
He whispered when he stopped beside Evan.  
Another man entered the house, pulling off his top hat as his face paled.  
If Evan remembered correctly, it was Tyler, one of the hunters for the town.  
The man knelt down beside the woman, gently pressing his fingers against the two wounds on her throat before standing up again.  
"What could have done this?"  
He gasped, looking back toward Evan and Brock as he came to his senses.  
Brock frowned, but Evan just turned his dark stare back toward the corpse.  
"Vampires."  
He whispered.

Brock whipped around.  
"Evan! None of that devil speak!"  
"Father, they attacked my old town too!"  
Evan yelled, glaring at the priest.  
"I know how to kill them, and we should before-"  
"No! She has fallen victim to a wolf attack."  
Brock interrupted.  
"Tyler,"  
The priest turned to the hunter, his shoulders stiff.  
"Please inform Marcel and the others that there is a wolf loose. We need to find this beast and kill it."  
Brock turned to leave the building, but Evan caught his sleeve.  
"Father, please listen to me! We need to-"  
"I said no more Evan!"  
Brock shouted, spinning on his boots to face him.  
"There are no such things as vampires, and if there were, my blessing would keep them away from this town. No go and pray for forgiveness!"  
"But-"  
"Go!"  
Father Brock pointed outside the door, Tyler watching Evan intently.  
Evan sighed, then slowly marched out the door.  
Several townspeople stood surrounding the door, all of them awaiting the priest's word of what had happened.

 _They're being lied to._  
Evan thought bitterly, glaring at those in his way and shoving his way past those who didn't move.  
When he reached the edge of the crowd, however, someone grabbed his arm.  
"Evan, was it?"  
Evan turned to see Tyler, the hunter's face still pale.  
"Yes, here to mock me?"  
Evan asked, pulling his arm away and turning to walk back to his house.  
"No, I believe you."  
Evan froze.  
"Why?"  
He asked, turning back to face the hunter.  
All the townsfolk that had been nearby pressed closer to the house, and when Evan looked, Brock seemed to be announcing something.  
He didn't want to stay to hear it.  
"Because I've seen a wolf attack. This was not the work of a wolf."  
Tyler said, his eyes glazing slightly like he was staring at the corpse again.  
Evan paused, then said,  
"Have you had any experience with vampires?"  
Tyler blinked out of his haze, then shook his head.  
"What are they?"  
Evan looked back at the priest, Brock holding his arms out as he addressed the people.  
He looked ready to hang on a cross.

"Let's speak in my house,"  
Evan said, turning back toward Tyler.  
"I don't want to freeze before we put a stop to this monster."

\---

"What can I help you with today?"  
The blacksmith asked, wiping his hands on a rag.  
"A new gutting knife. My old one snapped."  
Tyler said, glancing at the assorted tools around the shop.  
At one point he knew what all of them were called, but now that knowledge failed him.  
"Alright. I have one already forged, or would you like a new one?"  
Tyler turned to Brian, the blacksmith holding up a sleek knife.  
"That's perfect. How much?"

Tyler looked the knife over as he took long strides toward Evan's house.  
He couldn't remember why exactly the man had requested the small weapon, but if it helped in getting rid of that demon-vampire he'd do anything.  
Pushing the door open, he saw Evan sitting at the kitchen table.  
The smaller man had a haunted look to him, his eyes dark and shoulders hunched. A mug of steaming tea sat between his hands.  
"I got the knife."  
Tyler announced, resting the dagger beside Evan. The man turned his head slowly to look at the knife, then reached out and picked it up.  
"Perfect."  
He said quietly.

\---

It took them a week to get everything together.  
Two more people died.  
One of them was Evan's neighbor, Craig.  
Upon seeing Craig's mutilated body, Marcel offered his help.  
Evan grew sick.  
His hands shook as he wrote lists of things for Tyler and Marcel to gather, but he hid the bloody handkerchiefs.  
They were going to kill it.  
And he was going to help them.

Finally, they were ready.

Evan lead them up the hill to the cemetery, snow crunching beneath their boots.  
The clouds hid the moon and stars.  
Only one light was aglow in the town; a single lantern in the church.  
Evan carried their lantern, coughing into his sleeve to avoid the other two seeing the droplets of blood.  
Tyler carried the knife and wood for the fire.  
Marcel carried three shovels.

When they reached the top of the hill, Evan closed his eyes.  
He had memorized the path to _his_ grave.  
When they reached the slab of stone that marked the grave, Evan placed the lantern down.  
"This is it. This is the vampire,"  
He announced.  
Marcel read the stone aloud.  
"Jonathan Smith. May 2nd 1832- November 13th 1863."  
Evan stared at the grave for a long moment.  
It had only been 2 years since his death.  
And there hadn't been a moment he hadn't thought of him.

Evan forced those memories away.  
He needed to end this vampire.  
Even if it was his body, it was not him.  
Evan knew that.

"Let's start digging."  
Evan wheezed, taking a shovel from Marcel.  
As they scrapped and scratched at the freezing earth, they finally reached the coffin.  
It had been winter when he died too, so he wasn't buried deep.  
_Maybe that's why his body was taken by those demons._  
Evan thought sourly, imagining small, horned monsters playing with Jonathan's body like a puppet.  
It made him sick.

"You ready?"  
Marcel asked, placing his hand on the lid of the coffin.  
Tyler situated the wood, then nodded and glanced at Evan.  
Evan took a deep breath, then nodded.

Tyler held the knife ready.  
Evan used his shovel for support.  
Marcel gripped the lid with two hands.  
With a tug, the lid groaned open.  
Tyler lifted his knife to strike, then froze.  
Marcel gasped.  
Evan felt his legs shake.  
A twig snapped nearby and a shadow entered the lantern light.

A scream echoed into the night.  
Blood stained the snow.  
A weakened body crumpled to the ground.

The casket was empty.


	2. Never Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something a little outside the box for this one, so here it is!  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 2: Candy

Tall grey buildings towered over a black landscape, white lights illuminating pale gray faces and darker gray cars.  
A white moon slept in a black sky with faint gray stars glittering her bed.  
The greyscale city glowed silver, self-driving cars filling the skies as men drove from their hologram-sorting jobs back to identical houses.  
All their wives greeted them at the door as sons and daughters ran up to hug their father.  
All was the same.  
There were no discrepancies in the colorless world.

Except for the slums.  
The run-down, rat-filled, muddy trenches that the rest of society chose to ignore was the only place not run by AI.  
The only place not served by robots.  
The ghettos were where people worked the jobs civilization said only a computer should run.  
That's how they got the name Uncustomaries.

The Uncustomaries were what remained of the old humanity: drugs and alcohol, tattoos and piercings.  
Tattered jeans, baggy shirts, and dyed hair.  
However, they were still locked in the grey world.  
Living a life without color and a life without emotion.

Unless you could pay for it.

Figures walked the cracked sidewalks, ancient cars that have been fixed up hundreds of times trudging the crumbling streets.  
One man walked with his fedora low, his trenchcoat nearly dragging behind him. A vape was held carefully between his fingers, the smoke without flavor, smell, or color as he released the plume to the air.  
He hated the vacancy.  
He hated the void-like numbness that came with everyday life.

Taking another drag on his vape, the man paused outside a small bar.  
The white neon lights read, "Wishes".  
Looking over his shoulder, the man entered the building.

Inside was nearly empty, only a bartender and a few figures hunkered over in the far corners of the seating area.  
At first glance, the figures looked almost real.  
The man walked toward the bartender, leaning against the counter.  
"What can I get you?"  
The bartender asked, his gaze sidelong as he scrolled through his phone.  
The man read the nametag of the one behind the counter, then said,  
"Hey Brian, I think I'm feeling a glass of milk."  
Brian paused on his phone, then sighed and pressed a button under the counter.  
One of the paintings that were peeling from its canvas clicked before slowly rolling open, revealing an elevator.  
The man tipped his hat to Brian before entering the elevator behind the painting, the secret door sliding shut behind him.

As soon as the door shut, the elevator descended, the buttons for the floors rubbed away to blankness.  
Even before the door opened he could hear the pounding of music.  
As the door slid open, flashing white lights filled the man’s vision, and hundreds of people dancing to the bass-heavy dubstep made the ground feel like it was vibrating to the beat of the song.  
He forgot how loud the speakeasies were compared to the musicless outside.  
Every person had grayed-out sunglasses on, including the people behind the counter.  
The man quickly made his way to the bar, the bartender glancing at him with a wide smile.  
"Evan! Nice to see you again. Like our new location?"  
Evan grinned, sitting down at one of the few open barstools.  
"Anthony, have I ever been disappointed?"  
“If you have been you never told me,”  
Anthony said with a joyous laugh. A bowl of yellow candies sat behind him. Evan let out an empty chuckle with him, then asked,  
“So, you still have those color-glasses?”  
Anthony scoffed, pulling out a pair of black glasses with distorted gray lenses.  
“These will never leave, the people love them too much.”  
Evan nodded, then reached for the glasses. However, Anthony stopped him.  
“Psh! You don’t want these,”  
He said, throwing the pair behind him.  
“Smitty has been hard at work and got these prototypes in.”  
Anthony said, leaning closer to Evan. He ducked under the counter and pulled out a small gray box, sliding it toward the man in the fedora and trenchcoat.  
“Two words: color contacts.”  
Anthony said with a smirk as Evan picked up the box. Evan lifted an eyebrow.  
“How do they work?”  
The bartender shrugged.  
“Like normal contacts. But this means you can wear them outside and nobody would know!”  
The bigger man giggled, and Evan’s smile grew.  
“Alright. I’m definitely trying these out.”  
Evan promised.  
“But first, you still got my room?”  
Anthony smirked, fishing a key from his pocket.  
“Like I wouldn’t make sure my best customer kept his VIP room.”  
He handed the key to Evan, then pointed toward a sign that said “VIP” above a hallway.  
A man in all black stood beside the entryway, guarding the hallway from non-VIPs.  
“Just head down there. You know Tyler.”  
Evan nodded, unable to see Tyler’s bright eyes behind the color glasses.  
“Room service?”  
Evan asked, glancing back at Anthony.  
“Only the best.”  
Anthony winked, Evan nodded, heading toward the VIP hall. When he managed to get to the curtained hallway without getting crushed by the excited crowd, he gave Tyler a friendly jab.  
Tyler scoffed, giving him a nod before opening the curtain.  
Evan slipped through, following the hall as other private rooms branched off.

His door was at the end, decorated in what he could only assume was gold.  
He pushed the key into the lock and turned it, the door clicking open.  
The lights flickered on as he entered, the speakers beginning to play the melody of the latest song he had written.  
Evan smiled, then glanced at the bathroom to his right. He tossed the key on the counter and opened the contact case, seeing two black contacts sitting in a crystal white solution.

_Let’s hope these prototypes work._  
He thought to himself, picking up the first one.  
He pressed it to his right eye, then blinked several times. When the contact settled, he heard a quiet whirring as colors started filtering into his right eye.

“Smitty, you damn genius!”  
He said with a wide grin. He quickly pressed the left contact in, then took in his reflection.  
His trench coat was a dark maroon color, his fedora black.  
He stepped out of his bathroom, seeing the crimson walls of his room and the black leather couches with glittering gold pillows. The floor was black tile, a dark contrast to the pristine white bathroom.

_Man, Anthony knows how to decorate._  
Evan thought, hanging his coat and hat on the coat hanger before collapsing onto the couches in front of a tv.  
Usually he’d have a group of friends to lounge about with, but for today he was taking it slow.  
He wanted to feel out the new location since the old one got found out and burned to the ground. 

He turned to see a tablet resting on the table in front of the couches, a menu beside it.  
“Don’t mind if I do,”  
Evan cooed, picking up the menu.

There was the usual: weed, vodka, tattoos, piercings, everything they weren’t supposed to have that the government had stopped caring about years ago.  
Then, there was the special side.  
The side of the menu nobody outside of the Uncustomaries knew about.

Scent plugs, taste spray, and Evan’s favorite, emotion candies.  
The government may believe they have taken their humanity, but the Uncustomaries, with the help of Smitty and Kryoz, had been able to find a way to turn a few senses back on, if only for a limited time.  
However, they were also very pricey.  
For good reason in Evan’s opinion.

Evan picked up the tablet, the device scanning his face before unlocking.  
_“Welcome, Evan. What would you like today?”_  
The device asked, the same menu appearing in the screen.  
He quickly selected the Secret Menu and everything on it, making sure to get the longest duration for all of his senses.  
With his emotion candies, he chose Mixed Feelings, wanting to go for a variety bowl that he could blindly pick from.

When he hit order he put the tablet down, standing up and wandering the room as he waited for his things to arrive.  
It didn’t take long for there to be a knock on the door. 

Evan opened the door to see Ohm, the man’s color glasses emitting a soft orange glow.  
“Nice to see you back here Evan,”  
He said as he pushed the cart of sensory foods into the room.  
“It’s nice to be back. I missed feeling alive.”  
Evan said, reaching for the mixed bowl of different colored candies. He pulled out a yellow candy, reading the word “Happy” on it. He popped the candy in his mouth, letting it dissolve as warmth and energy began flowing through his body.

“Aw, yes!”  
He said with a giggle.  
“Thank you, Ohm!”  
He called, humming a new tune as Ohm left with a chuckle.

**

Evan smirked as he strummed his blue and white guitar, the notes being recorded onto an ancient PC. The Motivation candy he had taken was beginning to wear off, so he paused the recording software and sat the guitar back in its stand.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the strong vanilla scent that billowed from the candle that burned on the table.  
He picked up a piece of chocolate, letting it melt on his tongue like the candies. However, instead of an emotion, the sweet cocoa seemed to flood his mind.  
After relishing in the taste of his chocolate, Evan reached for the bowl of emotions.  
He picked up a black candy, not caring enough to read the emotion before dropping it on his tongue.  
The candies didn’t hold a taste, but the rush was enough to make Evan feel addicted.  
The candy melted, and Evan could feel his heart begin to pound faster, and thoughts grow quicker.  
Scrunching his eyebrows, he looked back at the bowl. He dug through the small candies until he found another black one, reading the name.  
" _Anxiety_.”

“Shit,”  
Evan spat. The last time he had eaten an Anxiety had been with Jonathan, and his friend had needed to practically hold Evan down.

_I should tell Anthony._

He told himself. However, as he picked up his phone he froze.  
_But what if he takes away my candies?_  
Evan frowned, then slowly lowered his phone.  
He’d be fine. He could ride this one out, it would only last 15 minutes.  
_But what if it lasts longer?_  
Evan bit his bottom lip.  
_Maybe I should call Anthony?  
No, he won’t believe me._

Evan groaned, pulling at his hair as he collapsed onto the couch.  
“This is fine,”  
He told himself, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths.  
“I’ll be fine.”  
Evan pressed his palms to his temples, staring at the tile underfoot.  
“Oh my god how long has it been?”  
He glanced at his wrist, flicking himself when he remembered he didn’t have a watch.  
“I’m not going to know when, but it will wear off. It always does.”  
Evan said out loud. The more stimulus he could get the better it would be.  
Maybe.

**

Evan rocked back and forth on the couch.  
His hair was frazzled and his eyes darted back and forth across the room.  
The golden pillows had been thrown to the ground and all the lights were on. A song played on the speakers, but Evan wasn’t listening to it.  
He had tried starting up a game on the tv but quickly decided against it.

He checked his phone, seeing the time at the top of the screen.  
He wasn’t sure how long it had taken him to find the small clock, but it had been 4 minutes since he had found it.  
He sighed, resting his head on his knees.  
He was fine.  
He was fine.  
He was....not.  
He was not fine.  
He was not fine.  
He was not fine not fine not fine not fine.

“AGH!”  
Evan screamed, trying to crush his skull.  
He couldn’t do it.  
Everything was too much.  
“Just stop it!”  
He yelled.  
“Stop it stop it stop it!”  
He stood and grabbed a pillow off the ground to scream into.  
He was shaking.  
He paused a moment to hold his hand in front of him, watching each finger tremble like a dying leaf.  
He felt like he was dying.  
Evan heaved and emptied a stomach full of drained emotions and chocolates.  
This was it.  
This was his end.  
He whimpered, tears now falling down his cheeks.  
He just wanted it to stop.  
Just.  
Stop.  
He slapped the couch as hard as he could, then began punching and kicking the furniture.  
“WHY WON’T IT END?”  
He screeched to the ceiling.  
He ran into a wall, his body feeling temporary pain before being engulfed in the panic again.  
He checked his phone.  
It had been 2 minutes since he last checked it.  
He let out another blood-curdling scream, then tried to stumble toward the bathroom as his stomach flipped.  
However, he tripped over his own shoes and slammed his head against the corner of the table.  
He whimpered, sitting up and putting a hand to the wound.  
When he pulled his hand away, scarlet dripped down his fingers.

“Oh god...”  
He wheezed, using the other hand to wipe at the deep cut.  
He wobbly stood up and used the couches to shakily walk to the bathroom. 

As he gripped the counter, he looked at his reflection.  
A dark crimson gash stretched from above his right eye to above his right ear.  
Blood was smeared across his face, and more dripped down like demonic tears. 

_I’m going to die._  
He realized, touching the wound where it stretched across his temple.  
_I’m going to die._  
He stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the tub. He caught himself, his hands shaking again at the thought of falling.  
_Never again._  
He managed to waddle back toward the main room, staring at the bowl of emotions.  
_Never again._  
He took slow steps toward the glass bowl, the multicolor candies shining tantalizingly in the neon white light.  
_Never again._  
He picked up the bowl, then threw it as hard as he could onto the floor.  
Thousands of emotions littered the floor.  
_Never again._  
He could feel his anxiety wearing off.  
It was over.  
_Never again._

Evan grabbed his tailcoat and fedora off the coat hanger, wincing as the pain of his wound began settling in.  
_Never again._  
Evan took a step toward the door before his feet were forced out from under him, and he landed hard on his back.

Sharp pricks of pain covered his arms and legs. He slowly sat up, the lifted his arm.  
Several shards of glass from the bowl stuck out of his arm, blood welling up and dripping down his arm.  
The slimmest shard went through his wrist.

“Fuck,”  
He whispered. He slowly used the armrest of a couch to pull himself to his feet, a large shard sticking out of his calf.  
Evan grimaced, then trudged toward the door.  
_Never again._  
He avoided the candies.  
_Never again._  
He pulled out a few shards from his arm, scarlet soaking his tailcoat.  
He was getting dizzy.  
_Never again._  
He opened the door, the music from the dance floor hammering its way into his skull.  
_Never again._  
He took faster steps out of the hallway.  
_Never again._  
The music grew faster, preparing for a drop.  
_Never again._  
Evan pushed through the curtain, a pause before Tyler called out,  
“Evan? What happened?”  
Evan glared at him.  
_Never again._  
He turned away, forcing his way through the crowd.  
Nobody seemed to notice the pricks of glass as they got ready to jump and scream.  
The music grew faster.  
_Never again._  
There were screams as the world spun.  
_Never again._  
The music grew faster.  
“Evan? Evan can you hear me?”  
Evan was on the ground.  
How long had he been there?  
_Never..._  
The beat dropped.


	3. Too Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shook things up with some first-person perspective!  
> Also tweaked with the idea of zombies.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 3: Zombies

I was too late.

“Jonathan!”  
I turned my head toward the shout, seeing Luke fighting off a persistent monster.   
I tried to lift my gun and shoot, but my arms rebelled.  
It was too late.

*

The video games my friends and I had played never prepared us for when it became a reality.   
The zombies in the real world were fast and traitorous.  
Nobody knew who was a zombie until too late.

What they don’t teach you in those joke books and comic strips is that the virus works slow.  
Slower than slow.  
It started working with dead bodies that had no immune system to fight off, it had no reason to move quickly. 

Then people got bit.  
Nobody except the crazed thought the bite would be what transferred the virus, they all assumed death was the ultimate bridge to zombiedom. 

I could remember when the first of our group was bit.

*

“Shit,”  
Nogla spat, hissing against the alcohol Craig wiped into the small punctures.   
“Be more careful next time,”  
Brock mothered, handing Nogla one of the few candies they had left.  
Nogla nodded a promise as Craig wrapped the wound, and that was it.

It wasn’t until Nogla grew pale that they asked if he was sick.  
It wasn’t until Nogla started refusing food that they asked if he was okay.  
It wasn’t until Nogla attacked Brian that they knew he had turned. 

Tyler had pulled the trigger that ended the puppet of their friend. 

Precautions were taken to make sure nobody else got bit.  
We were able to avoid it for a long time. 

It wasn’t until Evan called me into his room that I thought about the risk of getting bit.

*

“Jon, I need to tell you something.”  
Evan’s jaw was tense, his dark eyes staring at everything but me.  
At one point I would have craved a relationship with him, but out here, we didn’t risk it.  
No matter the heartbreak.  
“What is it?”  
I asked. Evan seemed to struggle with his words for a few seconds, then he swallowed and lowered the collar of his shirt.  
Six small pricks formed a semi-circle on his shoulder.  
I took a step back.

“Shit…”  
I hissed, my gaze confused about where to stare.  
My eyes flicked from the floor to Evan’s eyes, then to the bite.  
“When?”  
I was finally able to ask.  
Evan sighed.  
“At the raid this morning.”  
He admitted, releasing the collar of his shirt to hide the bite again.

We stood there in silence for a moment before I asked,  
“What are you going to do?”  
Evan stared at the ground, then lifted his dark eyes to mine.  
“I...I don’t feel ill. But we both know I have about a month before I’m…”  
Evan trailed off, swallowing before saying quietly,  
“Gone.”

I nodded slowly, trying to take the conversation in a logical direction to prevent my anxiety from getting too high.  
“Who will lead us?”  
I asked, wringing my fingers. Evan scoffed.  
“Tyler or Luke probably, I’m not worried about them.”  
A hint of a smile pulled at his lips.  
“Who are you worried about?”  
I pressed, taking a step closer.  
Evan paused for a long moment, visibly going through several options carefully.  
 _That was why he leads us,_  
I realized.  
 _He thinks of everything when making decisions._

A sigh leaked from the man in front of me before he spoke quietly.  
“You.”

*

Much of the passing weeks blurred together.  
I can remember locking his secret away, our hidden burden hanging heavy between us as we held hands.  
Imaginary gags muffled promises between kisses.  
Invisible lock and chain held us together in bed.

We both knew it wouldn’t be long until someone noticed, and neither of us were surprised when Tyler pulled Evan aside.

The lies we spoke dripped from our lips like venom.

Evan stopped eating after the second week. His touch grew cold against my waist and his lips dry against my neck.

I knew I should have told him to stop.

*

Evan smiled as he pulled me into our room.  
“I love you, Jonathan.”  
He cooed, holding me close as we locked eyes.  
No heartbeat pounded in his chest.  
The color was fading from his irises. 

“I love you too, Evan.”  
I said softly, leaning my head on his chest.  
Cold seeped through his shirt.  
Nothing in him lived.

Evan shifted into a hug, our heads resting on the other’s shoulder.

I could sense what was happening.  
I didn’t stop him.

There was a pain in my neck.  
I hissed, pulling away.  
Evan leaned back, his eyes glazed.  
“Love...you….”  
He mumbled before trying to grab me again.

I shoved him away, hurriedly escaping the room and locking the door behind me.  
There was a thump on the other side before he started scratching at the door.  
“Jooooonathaaaaan….”  
He groaned.  
I grimaced and rested my forehead against the door.  
He was gone. 

I put a hand on the bite.  
I knew it was too late.

“Jonathan!”  
I turned toward the shout, seeing Tyler wrestling with a gun.  
I could hear his panicked heartbeat.  
“We got a horde coming.”  
I nodded and rushed off to get my weapon.  
I knew I was too late.

We hurried out to meet the running and screaming zombies.  
Most of them still looked like people. 

I swung my rifle around and bashed skulls in.  
I closed my eyes against the gore.  
My arms were growing heavy.  
My mind was clouding over.  
I knew I was too late.

That was when I heard Luke.  
“Jonathan!”  
I turned to look at him.  
My friend.  
My brother.

I tried to protect him.  
I was too late.

I growled.  
My blood had long stopped flowing.   
My mind had long gone fuzzy.  
My blue eyes had dulled to gray.

I was too late.


	4. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is very short, and I struggled coming up with a decent idea before working with this.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 4: High School

The moon was stained an ominous amber as it rose steadily into the night sky.  
Flashing lights and Halloween music filled the air above the small town as children ran down streets in costumes.   
Decorations leaped out at passersby, bags of candy bouncing in the cool night air.

Streetlights stained the roads and people orange.

A high school stood at the end of the road.  
A lone ruby-colored truck was parked in the front.  
The front door swung open on squeaky hinges.

A teenager strolled the darkened halls, his raven-colored hair almost covering his eyes.  
He wore a letterman jacket and held a cardinal rose.  
A small bag of candy jostled in his pocket with every step as he looked up from the bloody blossom in his hand.  
He didn't realize he had cut his finger on a thorn.

He had left the Halloween Party at Tyler's early, only because he had needed to take his neighbor Lui trick-or-treating.  
Tyler's good night gift to him had been a rose from the bushes in front of his house.  
Lui and Evan ended up getting some great candy loot, but the moment the high school came into view Lui insisted they turn around.

After babbling for several minutes about how the place was haunted, Evan made a bet with the kid that he could walk through the main hall and out the back of the school without seeing the ghost.  
They shook hands, Lui giving Evan his agreed portion of the candy before the older teen headed in.

Ean scoffed.  
"I can't believe that kid,"  
He said to himself.  
"Tyler, Brian, and I had made that rumor up years ago."  
He pulled out the bag of candy.  
"Now I get some money _and_ some good sweets."  
His voice bounced off the lockers and walls, a faded echo of his one-sided conversation returning to him.  
Only some of the lights were on, leaving large waterfalls of light with chasms of shadow between them.  
Occasional lights had construction paper over them, dyeing the water orange, green, or purple.  
He spun the rose in his hand.

 

There was a sudden clatter ahead, and Evan's senses flicked toward it.  
A white sheet turned the corner ahead.  
The sound of bouncing candy followed after it.  
He smirked.  
"Jackpot..."  
Evan thought victoriously, jogging down the hallway.  
The thought of more free candy spurred him forward.

He turned a corner to see a boy standing under one of the lights.  
A white mattress sheet was thrown over him, black circles painted on for eyes.  
The bag of candy was in his hand.

“What are you doin’ here all alone?”  
Evan cooed with an innocent smile, taking slow steps toward the boy.  
“W-waiting for my b-brother.”  
Evan nodded sympathetically.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Mason.”

Evan felt a chill go down his spine.  
He ignored it.

“I see you got some candy, Mason.”  
Evan took slow steps toward the boy before stopping in a puddle of white light.  
Only a valley of darkness stood between them.  
“Y-yeah..”  
Mason said softly, the eyes of the sheet turning to look at the bag. The black marker eyes turned back toward Evan.  
“You have some candy too.”  
Evan chuckled, pulling out the bag of candy Lui had given him.  
He tucked his rose into his pocket.  
“Yep.”  
“Can I have some?”  
Evan’s smile fell.  
He turned back toward the boy.  
“What?”  
“Your candy,”  
Mason said, a small arm poking out from under the sheet as he pointed at Evan’s bag.  
“Can I have some?”  
Evan scoffed, shoving the bag back in his letterman pocket.  
“Kid, this is my candy. If anything, I’m getting some of yours.”

Mason’s arm lowered.  
“Oh…”  
Evan shrugged, then took a step into the shadow.  
“No need to panic, I'll just-”  
The moment his foot hit the darkened tile the lights went out.

“What the-”  
Evan took his foot back and the light turned back on.  
Mason was still in front of him.  
Confused, Evan attempted another step forward.  
The lights above Evan shattered.  
He jumped, pulling his foot back.

The lights flickered back on, but they were stained crimson.  
Evan looked back at Mason.  
Blood dappled his cloth.

_“Why would you take candy from a child?”_  
Evan froze, looking around the hall.  
The voice did not come from Mason.  
“Who’s there?”  
His question echoed down the hall like an endless cave.  
The voice did not answer, but Mason started giggling.  
Evan turned to look at him.  
“What’s so funny?”  
Mason had to take a moment to actually get the words out.  
“He’s right behind you!”

The scarlet lights blinked out again.  
When they finally lit up again, they grew dark with blood.  
Evan could hear Mason cackling, but the boy in the sheet was nowhere to be seen.

_“Behind you.”_  
Evan whipped around.   
The lights flashed like murdered strobes.

Another teenager towered over him.  
His perfect white clothing dripped with blood.  
His skin seemed to melt off his face.

A scream echoed through the halls.  
Blood dripped down lockers.  
Iron tainted the vents.  
A rose laid in a puddle of matching crimson.

The moon turned red.


	5. Sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof I struggled getting this one done. However, I do like the end result.  
> Enjoy!  
> <3

Day 5: Ouija Board

The neighborhood buzzed with excitement.  
However, it was different to the sort of excitement than what radiated off people nearing Christmas or birthdays.  
It was the first day of October. 

Leaves were stained red and gold before falling and dappling the sidewalks.  
Teenagers blasted Halloween tunes.  
Their laughter and joy for horror filled the air.  
A strange sort of joy that prepared the mind for fright and the body for gore.

A group of middle schoolers walked together as they planned costumes.  
Some high schoolers were denying offers to parties with the excuse of work.  
A few college students bought several bags of candy to eat through the month.

In a quiet house, four freshmen boys sat on a couch.  
There was no car in the driveway.

“Why does Halloween have to be at the end of the month?”  
One of them groaned, the 3D glasses on his nose falling higher up as he stared at the ceiling.  
“Because we need to spend the whole month hyping the day St. Spook visits the graves of all the dead memes.”  
Another one said with a knowing smirk.  
His frilly bleached hair hung above him as he hung upside down on the couch.  
The others groaned.  
“What is up with you and your obsession with ‘St Spook’, John?”  
One of them asked.  
He wore a pink hoodie and his glasses reflected the dull lamplight.  
John sat upright and placed a hand on his chest in mock offense.  
“Because _Toby_ ,"  
John said mockingly,  
"If Christmas gets Santa Claus, then Halloween get St. Spook.”  
“Whatever,”  
Toby mumbled, rolling his eyes.  
“Hey, I agree with John,”  
The kid with 3D glasses said indignantly.  
“St. Spook is real!”  
“Yeah, Smitty!”  
John said, reaching over Toby to high-five Smitty.

“I’m bored,”  
Toby teen between Smitty and John groaned.  
“You’re always bored Toby.”  
John said dismissively.  
“Am not!”  
Toby retorted, glaring at John.  
“Wait, I have an idea!”  
The last teen shouted, leaping to his feet before dashing away.  
The other three watched him vanish, then glanced at each other.  
“Well, Swagger seems excited.”  
Smitty commented.  
John scoffed.  
“He probably went to get something his parents told him not to touch.”  
Toby nodded.  
“Sounds like Swagger: doing whatever his parents told him not to do the moment they're gone.”  
John scoffed.  
"Sounds like Swagger, period."

The three waited only a minute longer before Swagger reappeared, puffing like he’d run the entire time, clutching a board to his chest.  
“We’ve gotta try this!”  
He shouted, dropping the board onto the floor in front of the couch.   
It was an Ouija board.  
All of them stared at it for a moment before John shrugged.  
“Sure, got nothing better to do.”  
Smitty frowned.  
“Why do your parents have a Ouija board?”  
Swagger shrugged, sitting on the ground as John joined him.  
“Dunno. I’ve seen my mom use it a few times though.”  
Toby wrinkled his nose.  
Just looking at the board made him feel a pit in his stomach.  
“Come on Toby,”  
John said, grabbing Toby’s hand and pulling him off the couch.  
“I...don’t really want to.”  
Toby said softly, shifting away from the board.  
“What are you, a pussy?”  
Swagger teased.  
“No,”  
Toby said defensively, although his tone didn’t carry much strength.  
“Smitty?”  
John asked, glancing at the teen on the couch.  
Smitty just shook his head.  
“Aw come on,”  
Swagger whined.  
“One of you?”  
Smitty glanced at Toby beggingly, and Toby sighed.  
He was already on the floor anyway.  
“Fine.”  
Toby groaned.

Swagger placed a hand on the planchette, John and Toby joining him.  
Toby felt the pit in his stomach grow.

“John, you start.”  
Swagger said, watching the board with interest.  
The blonde sighed, then asked,  
“Is anybody there?”  
They waited.  
The planchette stayed frozen in the center of the board.  
5 minutes passed in a tense silence before Swagger took his hand back.  
“This is stupid! When my mom uses this thing it works instantly!”  
Swagger moved to stand up when Toby’s hand moved.  
John and Toby stared at the board as the planchette moved, spelling out:  
 _”H-E-L-L-O”_  
Everyone froze.  
“Did you move it?”  
John asked, turning toward Toby.  
“What? I thought you moved it!”  
Toby shouted, feeling his heart begin to race.  
“It was a ghost!”  
Swagger chirped cheerily, putting his hand back on the planchette.  
“What’s your name?”  
He asked, staring at the board with a renewed excitement.  
The planchette moved.  
 _”F-I-T-Z”_  
“Fitz,”  
Smitty noted from his perch.

“I don’t want to play anymore…”  
Toby whined, trying to pull his hand away.  
It wouldn't budge.  
He tried to peel his fingers off, but the appendages had cemented themselves to the small piece of wood.  
He was trapped.  
"You have to stay Toby,"  
Swagger said, not taking his eyes off the board.  
"The ghost wants you here."  
"What?"  
Toby felt his hand being pulled again, the planchette moving in a smooth rhythm to the letters.

"Stay Toby."  
Smitty read off his notes.  
Toby felt like his lungs were being crushed.  
He turned to Swagger.  
"How did you know?"  
He asked shakily.  
Swagger still didn't look up from the board.  
"He told me."  
Swagger said simply.

The planchette moved again.  
"Time for a game?"  
Smitty translated. He tilted his head slightly.  
"What does that mean?"  
Toby felt sick.  
"What do you mean, Fitz?"  
John asked the board.  
The planchette moved.  
However, instead of selecting letters, it moved in a figure 8 motion.

Toby could feel the blood draining from his face.  
His mind grew hazy as bile climbed his throat.  
"Swagger, how do we stop?"  
John asked beside him. The blonde was watching Toby worriedly.

Swagger stiffened.  
"Why would you want to stop?"  
His voice was monotone, eerie and dripping with an almost inhuman sound.  
John frowned.  
"Swaggs, are you okay?"  
There was a pause as nobody moved.  
Swagger lifted his head slowly, his lips pulling back into a smile.  
His eye sockets were vacant holes.  
Blood dripped from where his eyes should have been.  
"Of course."  
His voice was cold.  
Toby felt a chill go down his spine, then freeze his body.

Nobody spoke as Swagger smiled.  
The planchette still swirled in figure eights.  
"We need to stop."  
John said finally.  
Toby could feel him shaking.  
The planchette froze.  
John and Toby glanced at where it had stopped.

"No."  
Swagger and Smitty said at the same time.


	6. Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went through 3 different endings to get this, so I hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 6: Haunted House

The fair bustled with people.  
An orange-painted Ferris wheel towered above the park.  
A carousel with skeleton and zombie horses spun around as children rose and fell on their backs.  
Game booths were stocked full with stuffed pumpkins and vampires.  
The asphalt was blanketed with fiery leaves, footsteps crunching as families walked together.  
Some held corn dogs as they walked through the attractions.  
Kids fed handfuls of grain to goats and llamas.

A large building sat on the edge of the fair, teenagers laughing and staring wide-eyed at the sign above the doorway.  
Haunted house.

“Come on, Mason!”  
A kid yelled, waving for his friend to follow.  
Mason, with plastic vampire teeth and a plastic bag full of candy, ran after him.  
“Wait up, Jay!”  
He cried.  
Jay had a large grin on his face, glancing from Mason to the sign above the building.  
“We gotta go in!”  
He said, bouncing with excitement.  
His own bag of candy jostled with each step.  
“Jay!”  
Mason cried, finally catching up to his friend. He took his false teeth out and dropped them in his candy bag.  
“Only teenagers go in there.”  
Jay blew a raspberry.  
“Aw, come on. We’ll be teenagers soon. High school is in two years!”  
Mason frowned, turning toward the haunted house.  
A black cat slunk around near the entrance.  
A scream echoed from inside.  
“I don’t know…”  
He mumbled, dropping his gaze and kicking at a rock.  
Jay scoffed.  
“Masooooon. Everything inside is fake! Nothing in there can hurt you.”  
Mason looked up, his gaze narrowed.  
“How do you know?”  
Jay smirked, taking a few steps closer to the door.  
“Because if they do, we can sue them. Let’s go!”  
Jay dashed off toward the door, leaving Mason no other choice but to follow.

“Two entries.”  
Jay chirped to the man near the door, holding out a handful of tickets.  
Jay flashed a toothy grin at a flustered Mason.  
“You two sure? It’s pretty scary in there,”  
The Ticketmaster said, raising an eyebrow.  
“Yeah, we’re sure!”  
Jay said, putting his fists on his hip. Mason just sighed in defeat.  
“Alright,”  
The Ticketmaster said.  
“In you go.”  
He opened the door to the haunted house, and Jay ran in.  
“Come on, Mason!”  
He shouted from inside.   
Mason bit his lip before jogging in after him.

It was dark.  
Pitch black.  
It took Mason a few moments for his eyes to adjust before he could finally see.

Jay was standing a few feet away, taking in the area around them.  
“This is going to be awesome!”  
He whispered, his smile the biggest Mason had ever seen it.  
Mason could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he swallowed his fear.  
I’ll try to have fun.  
He decided, managing a small smile.  
“Alright, let’s go.”

The two walked together, the first area decorated for some sort of cemetery.  
Headstones and spider webs stretched across the room, skeleton hands and zombies groaning as they “rose” from the grave.  
“See?”  
Jay said proudly.  
“Nothing will hurt you.”  
Mason giggled, looking around the fake cemetery.  
“Yeah, I guess.”

They moved to the next room: a kitchen-like setting where a man screamed as he was chained to the table.  
“The hell?”  
Jay asked near the entrance, Mason standing beside him.  
The man turned to them and yelled,  
“Help me! Please!”  
Jay frowned, then scoffed.  
“Wow, they sure are trying hard.”  
The man’s eyes were wide.  
“Please! He’s going to kill me!”  
“Who is?”  
Mason asked quietly.  
The sound of a chainsaw started up.  
Another man appeared from around an unseen corner, a chainsaw whirring in his hand.  
He wore a clown mask.  
“Nighty night!”  
The clown cackled, bringing the chainsaw toward the shrieking man.  
Mason closed his eyes and turned away.  
He felt droplets of warm liquid splatter his arms as the screams faded to nothing. 

“Woah,”  
He heard Jay gasp.  
Opening his eyes, Mason turned to look back.  
Blood covered every surface.  
“That looks so real!”  
Jay commented with a smile.  
The clown holding the chainsaw slowly turned to look at the boys, his smiling mask sending chills down Mason’s spine.  
“You’re next!”  
The clown took off running toward them, the chainsaw still whirring and clunking in hand.  
Mason felt the blood leave his face.  
“Run!”  
He shrieked, yanking Jay’s sleeve before running toward the next room.  
“It’s fake Mason!”  
Jay yelled, forcing his sleeve out of Mason’s grip.  
Mason turned back, shaking as the clown neared.  
“Watch.”  
Jay said with a smirk.

The clown cackled.  
Mason was glancing from the door to Jay.  
He wouldn’t die.  
Not here.

“You can’t hurt me!”  
Taunted Jay as the clown stopped in front of him.  
The clown stared at him for a second.  
The chainsaw let out a cough of exhaust.  
“See, Mason?”  
Jay said, turning to face his friend.  
“Nothing to-“

Metal sliced skin.   
Blood splattered everywhere as Jay’s eyes widened.  
Mason’s heart stopped.  
A bag of candy spilled across the floor.  
The clown pulled the chainsaw back, watching as Jay’s body collapsed.  
Mason could feel blood dripping down his face.  
“You’re dead.”  
The clown growled, taking steps toward Mason.  
Mason stared at Jay, then at the clown that was beginning to take faster steps toward him.   
Mason dashed toward the door, tears gathering in his eyes.  
His bag joined Jay’s on the floor.

 _It’s real._  
He shouted in his head.  
Panic fueled his every motion.  
 _It’s real._  
 _It’s real._  
 _It’s all real._  
He dashed through a dark room full of candles.  
A vampire with crimson eyes hissed at him.  
 _It’s all real._  
He dashed through a sulfur-smelling room with a cauldron of boiling goo.  
A witch was mumbling Latin.  
 _It’s all real._  
He dashed through a cave as bats screeched at him.  
A werewolf let out a deafening howl.  
 _It’s all real it’s all real it’s all real._  
He chanted.

Finally, he entered a room of pitch black.  
There was nothing.  
Mason was breathing hard.  
He could feel his heart pound every ounce of blood through his body.  
His eyes searched the darkness.  
“Please…”  
He muttered.  
“Please please please let me out.”  
His voice cracked.  
Tears of fear and grief soaked his face.  
A breeze trailed fingers down his arm.

"Boo!"  
Mason jumped, staring wide-eyed at the cardboard ghost that was hovering in front of his face.  
"Ha! Got you!"  
The ghost lowered, revealing a teenager in a hockey mask.  
"You shouda seen yer face!"  
He cackled, black hair falling over the mask.  
"Kids now are so easy to scare!"  
The teen said after catching his breath.  
Blue eyes glinted with mischief through the eye holes of the mask.

Mason stared at the kid.  
"Wha-?"  
He breathed, blinking in confusion.  
The teen scoffed.  
"This is the end of the haunted house! What, did you think that was real?"


	7. Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is extremely late!  
> I'll be trying to catch up but motivation has been fairly difficult to find.  
> Wish me luck!  
> <3

Day 7: Corn Maze

The sky was a murky blue-gray.  
Golden stalks reached upward, waving and dancing in the cool breeze.  
A vast pumpkin patch stretched out behind the cornfield, where children and families roamed to find the perfect one to take home.   
Groups of teenagers swarmed the entrance of the maze that wove through the corn, all of them whispering and placing bets on who would leave first.

One group was of four boys, all of them smirking as they read the sign posted in front of the maze.  
“Warning: Hardest Maze in the World. Be ready to spend eternity here.”  
Read one, brushing his bleached hair out of his eyes before adjusting his glasses.  
“Wow, they’re sure hyping it up.”  
“Yeah,”  
Scoffed the teen beside him, his panda hat sitting lopsided on his head.  
“How do they know this is the hardest maze?”  
“Because nobody else cares, Anthony.”  
The tallest of the four groaned, his piercing blue eyes narrowed at the teen in the panda hat.  
“Alright. Are we ready to beat this thing?”  
The teen that spoke had his raven hair slicked back, his warm, dark eyes scanning the faces of his friends.  
“If by ready, you mean I have this backpack filled with useless stuff, then yes.”  
The one with bleached hair sassed, rolling his eyes at the raven-head.  
“Shut it, Craig,”  
The tall teen snapped.  
“Evan was smart to get this stuff together. We don’t know how long it could take to leave this maze.”

Anthony scoffed,  
“Geez Tyler, get off his dick.”  
Craig scowled, then snapped,  
“Most of this stuff is useless! People have solved this maze in fifteen minutes, we aren't going to need a fucking food supply.”  
Evan kept his voice and expression calm.  
“And some people have disappeared for days inside it. It’s just in case.”  
Craig sighed exasperatedly, then threw the backpack over his shoulder.  
“Whatever. Are we choosing our groups now?”  
Evan nodded.

“I’m going with Tyler.”  
They said at the same time.  
Evan and Craig stared at each other before Tyler stepped toward Evan.  
“Sorry Craig, already promised him.”  
Anthony stepped closer toward Craig, a wide yet almost hurt smile on his face.  
“Looks like you’re stuck with me!”  
He said cheerily.  
Craig glanced at him, then rolled his eyes and slung the backpack into Anthony’s chest.  
“So who’s going where?”  
Craig asked, ignoring Anthony as he tried to regain the breath knocked out of him.  
Evan frowned at their panda-loving friend, then said,  
“Well, Tyler and I are going to take only lefts, and then you and Anthony are taking only rights. Whichever group gets to the end first, gets two fifteen dollar gift cards to whatever they want.”  
Evan said, zipping up his backpack before throwing it over his shoulder.  
“Are we ready?”  
They all mumbled an agreement, then walked to the entrance of the maze.

"Alright,"  
Evan said,  
"Remember to send a picture of the sign at the end of the maze so the other team knows its legit."  
He paused, glancing at Tyler with a smile before looking back at Craig and Anthony.  
"Good luck!"  
He said, giving them a loose salute before taking the first left turn.  
Craig watched Tyler disappear behind the stalks of corn before hurrying to the right, almost leaving Anthony behind.  
The early afternoon sun shone on the field.

\---

Evan lead Tyler around a few turns before there was a tug on his backpack.  
He turned around, Tyler pulling him into an immediate kiss.  
Evan blinked in surprise, then quickly melted into it, lifting his hands to run his fingers through Tyler's hair.  
Evan could feel Tyler smile, an arm pulling Evan closer to him.  
Evan giggled, pulling away.  
“Come on Tyler,”  
He cooed softly,  
“We need to get at least close to the end.”  
Tyler frowned.  
“Come on, just let them win. We never have time to be alone.”  
Evan smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Tyler’s lips.  
“We’ll have time. Just a bit farther.”  
Tyler let out a disappointed groan, then released Evan.

The two made their way through the maze.  
They lost count of the number of lefts.  
Fingers interlaced with stolen kisses.  
The sky grew dark.  
No sunset burned the sky, the sheet of cotton clouds blocking out the fire.  
Evan looked at the sky.  
They hadn’t seen any other people since they started.  
A crow called somewhere above.  
“Hey Ty, what time is it?”  
Evan asked, glancing at his boyfriend.  
Tyler pulled his phone from his pocket, then checked the sky.  
“There’s no way that’s right…”  
He whispered under his breath.  
“What?”  
Evan asked.  
“It’s 6:00 pm.”  
Evan frowned.  
“What time did we start?”  
“11.”  
Tyler mumbled, releasing Evan’s hand to open his phone.  
“Craig and Anthony finished at 11: 30.”  
He handed his phone to Evan.  
The selfie of Craig and Anthony in front of the “You Finished” sign glowed on the bright screen.  
There was a long chain of texts from Craig afterward, the first few ending with heart emojis.  
Evan ignored the protectiveness that flared in his chest.  
They both new Craig liked Tyler.  
Just another reason to keep their relationship secret.  
However, the texts quickly became panicked and worried.  
The last few mentioned a team of police refusing to search for them in the maze.  
Craig sounded pissed.

“He called the police on us?”  
Evan asked, handing Tyler his phone back.  
The blonde giant shrugged.  
“I guess. But it sounds like the police are giving us a few days to get out.”  
Tyler scanned a few more texts before pocketing his phone, taking Evan’s hand.  
“Well, looks like we got stuck taking the long way. Want to pull out some of the supplies from the backpack?”  
Tyler smiled sweetly at Evan, who felt warmth blossom in his chest.  
“Maybe in a while. Let’s go a bit further.”  
Tyler sighed, rolling his eyes as Evan pulled him forward.  
“Come on Evan. We have a night together where nobody will find us. Let’s relax for a while.”  
Tyler’s arm snaked around him and Evan smiled.  
“Okay, fine.”  
He caved in, slipping the backpack off.  
Tyler smirked, pulling Evan in for a kiss.

Before their lips touched, Evan heard a rustle.  
He pulled back, looking into the tall stalks of corn.  
He suddenly didn’t like how thick the gold foliage was.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Tyler asked, glancing where Evan was looking.  
“I...I thought I heard something.”  
Evan said softly. Tyler watched the area around them for a moment, then shrugged.  
“Might’ve been a squirrel. Relax.”  
Evan nodded, then leaned his head on Tyler’s chest.   
Two crows called to each other.

The sky darkened quicker than Evan would have liked.  
He and Tyler had set up a small camp, with a lantern, and two thin sleeping bags.  
They snacked on chips and applesauce.  
“Seriously, you thought of everything.”  
Tyler said as he finished off a bag of goldfish.  
They were sitting shoulder to shoulder.  
Evan felt like they were being watched.  
“Yeah…”  
He muttered distractedly.  
“Ev,”  
Tyler cooed, wrapping an arm around the raven-haired teen.  
“You need to calm down. We’re safe. And if you are so worried, then we can take turns staying up.”  
Evan shook his head, forcing the hair on his neck to lie flat.  
“No, I’m just paranoid. Sorry.”  
Tyler pressed a kiss to his temple.  
“Nothing to apologize for. Let’s get to sleep.”

Evan nodded, then Tyler turned the lantern off.  
The moon cast a silver light over them as they curled close together.

Evan awoke to a rustle.  
The corn stalks stood like lions.  
He looked around, Tyler’s taller form nestled to where Evan had been lying.  
A flock of crows let out angry caws nearby.  
Another rustle.  
Evan looked through the stalks.  
He could see some of them waving from movement.

“Tyler!”  
He whisper-yelled, shaking the blonde awake.   
Tyler blinked awake, groaning as he sat up.  
“What is it, Evan?”  
He mumbled drowsily, rubbing his eyes with his palm.  
“Th-there’s something there.”  
Evan stuttered, pointing at the waving corn.  
Tyler squinted at the movement.   
A low growl rumbled to life before two yellow eyes appeared, glaring menacingly at the two teens.   
Sharpened fangs glinted in the moonlight and a muzzle shoved its way toward them.

“Wolf!”  
Evan gasped, scrambling to his feet. Tyler managed to get up quickly, pulling Evan away from the backpack as the wolf leaped from the corn.   
“Run!”  
Tyler yelled, shoving Evan in front of him.  
Evan didn’t look back.  
Left.  
He regretted leaving the backpack.  
Left.  
Evan began second-guessing his turns.  
Left.  
What if they were only going deeper turning left?  
Left.  
Evan was panting, and as he was about to swerve right he saw a line of scarecrows blocking the path.  
A flock of crows let out bloody screams.  
Evan quickly changed his path back toward the left.  
He glanced back to see Tyler still running behind him.  
The wolf was growing closer.

Tyler seemed to sense it.  
"Keep going, Evan!"  
He yelled.  
The raven-haired teen looked back at Tyler to see him stop and leap onto the wolf.  
Growls and cries of pain seemed to swarm him.  
Blood flooded the ground.

Tears filled Evan’s gaze as Tyler stopped struggling.  
Crows swooped at his body.  
Evan turned around and ran faster.

Left.  
Left.  
Left.  
Scarecrows barred the edges of his path.  
Left.  
Their faces were torn and bloody.  
Left.  
Organs spilled from one.  
Left.  
Evan recognized a face.  
Brock.  
The teen had attempted to enter the maze a few years ago.  
He was never heard from again.  
Evan felt chills go down his spine.  
They weren't scarecrows.

Evan could feel a sob trying to rip free of his chest.  
Tyler would be joining them.  
His feet hurt.  
His tears were blinding him.  
He could hear the panting of the wolf behind him.

Evan collapsed.  
A sob sliced out his throat.  
He couldn’t go on.

Blood painted gold.

—-

Craig stared numbly at the corn.  
Tyler hadn’t responded to his texts.  
The police went until they found a small campsite before following a rope back to the beginning, claiming the death of both teens.  
Craig had told Anthony he was sick at home.  
Craig stepped into the maze.  
He turned left.


	8. Omen

Day 8: Folklore

Old signs flashed several-month-old advertisements.  
Dying neon lights blinked chaotically.  
Few cars passed through cracking streets.  
A figure wandered past 24-hour gas stations.  
He passed windowsills full of bats and skeletons.  
He smiled.  
The Halloween season was always his favorite.

He ran a hand through his hair, calming a few flyaways.  
The midnight moon glistened in the sky.  
He walked down the town’s Main Street, the road lined with old and seasonally-updated storefronts.

He was returning home from his best friend Mason’s house, where his ride had passed out on the couch.  
But that was fine, Jay knew his way home.  
_And luckily it’s only a 30-minute walk…_  
He thought to himself, tucking his hands in his black hoodie. 

An old house towered over the street, it’s white, paneled walls looking close to haunted.  
Jay walked a bit closer to the road.  
He passed a church next, the once proud gargoyles on its towers now crumbling.  
A stone head sat beside the steps.  
An old clock tower stood at its peak.  
The needles had long since stopped.  
The bell hadn’t tolled in years.

A raven called somewhere.  
There was a clatter in an alleyway.  
A car screeched around a turn too fast.  
A dog howled.  
Jay sighed.  
It was moments like these that he regretted not bringing his headphones.

A black dog trotted from the shadows of an alley.  
It glanced at him, letting out a low growl.  
He told himself he was imagining its fiery eyes.

A chill swam down Jay’s spine.  
_Okay, maybe I should have waited for Matt…_  
He thought, biting his cheek.  
A shadow moved in the corner of his eye.  
Jay turned to look, seeing nothing.  
He turned his attention back to the sidewalk underfoot.  
“Jay!”  
Jay lifted his gaze, scanning the empty street around him.  
That had sounded like…  
“Jay, help!”  
He was sure now.  
But where was it coming from?  
“Jay!”  
The cry came again, and this time Jay could follow its source.

Back to the church, a thin winding path that lead to a large area behind it.  
A cemetery.  
“I’m coming, Mason!”  
Jay cried, shoving through a bush of thorns.  
The clock tower above the church chimed.  
Jay stumbled into the old cemetery.  
Cobwebs stretched over spires and headstones.  
Nobody had been back there in years.  
“Mason?”  
Jay called out.  
Five crows lifted into the sky.  
A dog howled.  
“How’d he get out here?”  
Jay asked aloud to himself, stepping over a patch of thistles.  
The clock chimed a third time.  
More shadows edged Jay’s vision.

“Jay!”  
Mason’s voice echoed through the overgrown cemetery.  
A black-furred creature slipped from the thorns.  
Jay felt his heart skip a beat.  
It was a headless dog.  
A final howl sounded outside the graveyard.  
The clock chimed a seventh time.

A shadow pulled Jay’s attention away from the headless dog.  
The crowd of shadowy figures ripples like an ocean.  
One reached out for Jay.  
The clock chimed a tenth time.

He stumbled back, managing to put a headstone between himself and the shadows.  
A headless gargoyle sat atop the grave.

“Jay!”  
Mason sounded nearer.  
Jay turned around, seeing a flash of a pink hoodie.  
He ran.  
“Jay!”  
“Jay, save me!”  
The clock chimed an eleventh time.

“Jay~!”  
The voice warped.  
Jay’s eyes widened.  
Yellow eyes and scales mimicked his friend.  
The clock chimed a twelfth time.

Jay screamed as fangs found flesh.  
The murder of crows settled near an open grave.  
The clock chimed a thirteenth time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used lots of classic folklore of omens that elude to death.  
> Hope you enjoyed!  
> <3


	9. Hatred

Day 9: "...on the radio..."

“Hello everyone, it’s John on the Radio, and today is a bit of a sadder story. One year ago today the well known YouTuber Vanoss mysteriously disappeared. Nobody is sure about what happened to him, but the police have claimed his death. He-“  
Tyler turned the radio off, scowling as he gripped the steering wheel.  
He knuckles were white with tension.  
He hated whoever this “John” guy was.  
He hated the radio.  
He hated his luck.  
Tyler took a deep breath, calming his temper and fighting the tears.  
He hated he wasn’t there.

Tyler cranked the steering wheel, the old blue truck turning slowly down a dirt road.  
Gravel crunches under tires.  
The suspension squeaked and squealed with the vibration of the uneven road.  
Tyler chewed on his cheek.

A field came into view, a protective barrier of trees wrapped around its edge, blocking out all except the rarely used road.  
The truck slowed to a crawl before stopping.   
The field was full of dancing, golden strands of grass.  
The last time he had been here had been with _him_.  
With Evan.

Tyler let out a sigh, leaning back in his seat.  
He didn’t like the silence.  
He reached over and turned the radio back on, the same voice creaking over the speakers.  
“Evan Fong’s group of friends have finally been posting videos with their old schedule, all except IAMWILDCAT who has been barely surviving on two videos a week-”  
The radio cut out again.  
Tyler slammed a fist on the steering wheel.  
He hated how mainstream YouTube had gotten.  
He hated how public his life was.  
He hated how much his loss affected him.  
Tyler covered his face, letting out an angry cry.  
Hot tears burned his eyes as they soaked his face and palms.

He hated loving Evan.


	10. Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter yet!  
> I know this has nothing to do with any fandom, but this was what I came up with.  
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Day 10: The Black Death

The sun was bleeding across the clouds.  
Pillars of smoke stood like giants near the town, watching the people as the streets grew more and more empty.  
Corpses rotted away at the same speed of the living.

Black hands and feet covered the bodies.  
Sweet-smelling poultices covered scarlet wounds.  
Crowds of the despairing huddled in a church.  
A mother slept with her daughter below a cross.

A bird stalked the streets.  
His feathers left a trail of marigold and mint.  
People could smell him growing near.  
Desperate lovers called out for help.  
The bird walked slowly.

Cries and sobs rocked houses.  
Screaming and groaning drained down streets.  
The bird pecked tenderly at the tendrils of life.  
Fathers breathed last breaths.  
Tears wiped away the blood.

A paste was crushed and mixed together to save a frail life.  
The bitter scent of death washed away the one of hope.


	11. Blunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling angsty when I wrote this...so instead of my plan for fluff you get this. :)  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 11: Aliens

__  
a·li·en

Adjective  
1\. belonging or relating to another person, place, or thing  
__

Ohm had mentioned Tyler was an alien to me.  
What does that mean?  
What was he trying to say?  
I sigh.  
I wish he was more blunt.

I close the dictionary with a slam.  
I can hear the dusty boom echo slightly through the college library.  
The librarian comes up to me, a curious yet annoyed glint in her eyes.  
"Something the matter?"  
She asks calmly.  
I shake my head.  
"Just...friend drama."  
I grab my bag and leave before she can say another word.  
I don't need any advice.

"Hey, Craig!"  
I turn toward the voice, smiling at the source.  
"Hey, Anthony."  
My tone sounds so gloomy compared to the other's overflowing joy.  
Anthony seems to notice immediately and his grin shifts to a small frown.  
"What's wrong?"  
He asks, reaching my side.  
I sigh.  
"Remember when I...I told you about how I felt about Tyler?"  
I lowered my voice to the quietest whisper I could muster an Anthony nodded.  
"Well,"  
I start, staring at my shoes.  
"I guess Ohm overheard us. He promised not to tell anyone, which I was grateful for, but he also said that Tyler was an alien to me. What does that even mean?"  
Anthony has his face scrunched in thought when he looks at me.  
"And you were in the library..."  
"To look up the definition of alien."  
I finish.  
"I figured he didn't mean a little green monster with black eyes."  
Anthony shrugs.  
"Did you find anything?"  
Now it's my turn to shrug.  
"Maybe? The only thing close mentioned 'belonging to another person, or thing', or something like that."  
Anthony frowns.  
"Is Tyler dating anyone?"  
My foot hesitates slightly before I keep walking.  
Tyler was single, right?

"I haven't seen him with anyone..."  
That was when I realized.  
Evan.  
He had moved to the campus a year ago, and somehow managed to worm his way into our group of friends that have known each other since grade school.  
If I was honest with myself, I could remember all the times I had seen Tyler talking to him instead of me.  
"I've only seen that expression once,"  
I hear Anthony say, pulling me from my thoughts.  
"And what happened next was the dumbest thing he had ever done. So,"  
Anthony places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.  
"Please don't do whatever you're about to. You'll regret it."  
I glance from Anthony to his hand, then shrug him away.  
"Whatever. I got to talk to Tyler."

I walk away, Anthony sighing behind me.  
I don't turn around.  
If he wanted to tell me something other than riddles he needed to be blunt.

I know where Tyler's dorm is.  
Not because of any creepy shit, but because we often hang out at his place.  
When I reach his dorm, I knock.  
I've already collected my thoughts.  
I already know the words I'm going to say to Tyler.  
I have to confess before Evan steals him away.  
My heart is pounding.  
I know my anxiety is through the fucking roof, but I need to do this.  
I need to do it before-

The door clicks open.  
I stare at the young man in front of me.  
His black hair is ruffled.  
His dark eyes scan me curiously.  
I bite my tongue.  
"Where's Tyler?"  
I ask, trying to look over Evan's shoulder into the room.  
Evan doesn't stop me, but he doesn't let me in either.  
"Working on an essay on his laptop. Need him?"  
I give up and lean back on my heels.  
"Yeah."  
Evan nods, then disappears.

Damn it.  
I wish he wasn't so nice.

Tyler soon appears at the door, his beautifully blue eyes slightly dimmed with lack of sleep.  
He gives me a tired smile.  
"Hey, Craig. What's going on?"  
My heart flutters.  
I have to swallow to prevent my heartbeat from crawling into my throat.  
"Uh-uhm...I need to tell you something."  
Tyler shrugs.  
"Shoot."

A blush burns my ears.  
A smile pulls at my lips.

"Ty, I love you."  
I told myself to be blunt.  
To just admit it and stay calm.  
But I swear to god I am 100% going to pass out if Tyler doesn't interrupt me.  
Tyler's expression is unreadable.  
Don't panic.  
Don't panic.  
Don't panic.  
"I have f-for years. I...I just haven't had th-the courage to say anything until now."  
I watch Tyler closely.  
I can almost see the gears moving in his head.  
Surely, this wasn't a difficult thing to understand?  
It should've taken him a good couple seconds before he would understand and kiss me.  
I'd dreamed about this event for years and I knew how it played out every time.  
I would barely finish before he would drag me into the most loving kiss.  
Then, we would have movie nights where we just sat together and laughed.  
We would cuddle on the couch.  
We would spend long nights together.  
Then, when we're old, he'd hold me close and whisper in my ear,

"I'm sorry."  
The entire world seemed to be put on pause for a moment.  
"What?"  
I ask quietly.  
I hardly registered I said anything at all.  
Tyler lets out a long sigh.  
The gears are still turning in his mind.  
"Min, we've known each other for years. And...I dunno. Maybe two years ago but..."  
I can almost smell his brain frying.  
He was fumbling for words before he finally hit himself in the forehead.  
"Look Craig, I'll be blunt,"  
I hated that phrase.  
I hated when he called me Craig.  
I hated the dread building in my heart.

"Evan and I are together. We have been for about two months now."  
My life crumples.  
I can almost hear the shatter of glass as my heart falls to pieces.  
The lights around me seem to dim.  
"I'm sorry."  
I can see Tyler's honest about his apology.  
He almost never looks this upset.  
My shoulders slump.  
Fuck.

I don't know how long I stood there.  
I know at some point Tyler gave me a pat on the shoulder before shutting the door.  
Ohm found me in front of the door.

"I tried to warn you..."  
I hear him say quietly.  
"I'll try to be more blunt next time."


	12. Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up social media horror stories for inspiration and this catastrophe ensued. It is not great.  
> Hope you enjoy anyway!  
> <3

Day 12: Social Media

Evan opened the door to his bedroom, throwing his hockey gear to the floor.  
A smile pulled at his lips as he thought about his winning goal.  
The last game of the season meant college recruits were ready to beg him to go to their college.  
Evan couldn’t wait.

He was the top of the totem pole.  
Every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him.  
Mr. Popular.  
His Instagram was constantly full of dms from girls who wanted him.  
His public profile meant even girls across the world wished to meet him.

His phone buzzed.  
Evan plopped onto his bed, lying down before pulling out his small device.  
It was another Instagram message.  
Usually, he would ignore them, but he was in a good mood.  
 _Sounds like it’s her lucky day…_  
Evan thought slyly.  
He opened up Instagram, pulling up the message.  
It looked like all the others.

_“Hey handsome.”_  
Evan smirked  
 _“Wassup?”_  
He typed.  
 _“Saw you at the game.”_  
Evan smiled.  
 _“Yeah? What’d you think?”_  
 _“You’re way more pretty in person.”_  
Evan couldn’t stop the slight chuckle.  
 _“Aw thanks.”_  
 _“We should meet up.”_  
Evan bit his lip.  
Did he have any free time?  
He mentally scanned his schedule.  
He sighed, typing out his next message.  
 _“Sorry, no time this week. Homework and practice. Next week maybe?”_  
The girl didn’t respond for a while. The three dots appeared beside their icon, but still no message yet.  
Evan felt impatience gnaw on his gut.  
Realizing he should probably know who he was looking for whenever they decided to meet, he clicked on the profile.  
His stomach dropped.  
The message came through.  
 _“Right now.”_  
It wasn’t a question.  
Evan sat up.  
He felt sick.  
A picture quickly came through the dm.  
It was him on his bed.

Evan looked up at his window.  
It was too dark to see anything.  
 _“When did you take that picture?”_  
Evan typed as fast as he could.  
He scrolled through the profile.  
Hundreds of candid pictures covered the profile.  
All were him.  
He didn't know about any of them being taken.  
He glanced at the username.  
 _@Number1_E.F._Fan_  
Bile was rising in his throat.  
 _"This morning :)"_  
Evan cringed at the smiley face.  
Something tapped the window.

Evan stood, taking a few steps toward the glass.  
His phone buzzed.  
 _”Not there silly!”_  
Evan looked around, his heart was pounding.  
 _"Where are you?"_  
Evan typed.  
His phone struggled to autocorrect the frantic letters.  
 _"Closer than you think."_  
A drop of cold sweat dripped down his back.

Evan crept toward his closet before slowly opening the door.  
It was empty.  
 _"One more guess hot shot."_  
Evan looked around his room, then swallowed.  
 _"Or what?"_  
The answer was instant.  
 _"Or I get to keep you forever."_

Evan chewed his cheek.  
He had to be smart with this.  
Taking a deep breath, Evan scanned his room.  
 _Not by the window. Not in the closet. Where could she be?_  
His room was small. There weren't many hiding places.  
 _Can't be behind my bookshelf._  
 _Not hidden beneath my desk._  
Evan sighed, his eyes falling to his bed.  
There was just enough space below for a person to hide.  
 _I'll worry about how she got there later._  
He thought with a gag.

He crouched down, peering under his bed.  
A black mass of shadows condensed there.  
Two dagger-sharp eyes watched him.  
A wide and bone-breaking smile of needles greeted him.  
"Hello there, Evan."  
Evan let out a scream, shoving himself away from his bed.  
The monster soared into the air, letting out a blood-curdling cackle.  
"It was so nice to meet you,"  
The monster cooed.  
A gaunt hand reached out from the shadows, caressing Evan's cheek.  
"But I am so hungry. and you look so tasty~."  
Evan's head was growing heavy.  
His hands were shaking.  
"How...how..."  
He stuttered, the questions that once flew around his mind falling like dying leaves.  
"Ah Evan,"  
The monster said, licking its teeth.  
"Asking doesn't bring you closer to answers."

Blood splattered the bedroom.  
A phone buzzed with unanswered messages.  
A wisp of white left the bloody corpse.  
It touched the monster, staining it black.  
The creature of damned souls slithered under the bedroom door.


	13. Scared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sudden dump of shorts, I finally did day 10 and 11 so I can post all the others I had already finished.  
> This one is very simple, and I'm curious what you guys think happened.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 13: Serial Killers

The city illuminated the sky.

The moon wasn’t strong enough to burn the barrier of false light.  
The stars were hidden from view by neon.

The streets were never empty as cars soared at uncaring speeds.  
No people walked the sidewalks.  
Rain drizzled relentlessly.

In a neighborhood, a row of houses stood watchful.  
Every door and window was locked.  
Thick curtains covered the outside world.  
Sirens could be heard from all around.

The house was quiet.  
Two forms were huddled close.  
Jonathan was scared.  
He knew he should be, everyone was.  
Evan had told him that.

Jonathan flinched at the sound of thunder.  
His heart raced.  
Blood had painted the city.  
The hidden figure left a path of gore.  
Stab wounds and ruined masks tainted the news.  
He had known all of the victims.

The first to fall had been Brian.  
Their friend’s crumpled like paper.  
All of them had slept in pools of scarlet.  
All of them had screamed for mercy.  
Not one of them had been left alive.

Only he remained.  
Jonathan could feel his tears burning his eyes.  
Crimson stained his mind.  
The world was over.

His hands were shaking.  
Only a quiet whimpering could be heard.  
Tears mixed with blood.

Jonathan had watched all of his friends die.  
The murderous jay had stolen them from him.

A blue hoodie was tainted with the blood of the owl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It also structured in a sort of pyramid style, with the longest stanza being 6 lines before decreasing again.  
> Idk why, but I thought it was cool.  
> <3


	14. Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my true attempt at suspense!  
> I enjoy how this turned out, but I also feel like I could do better.  
> (Like most of these I guess lol)  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> <3

Day 14: Poltergeists

Rain glittered on leaves.  
Small animals chittered across trees.  
A river trickled through the mountains.  
Thick cloud cover shrouded the mountains in shadow.  
The rainfall had ended a few hours ago.

Tires splashed through puddles.  
Mud slashed the car and splattered trees.  
Birds erupted from treetops as the truck clambered up the ruined road.

An old cabin stood atop the hill, the tall, branching oaks almost seeming to reach away from the darkened home.  
An owl let out an annoyed hoot as the truck pulled to a stop.  
A raven-haired man stepped out of the truck, giving the house a long look before slamming the car door.  
_This place is definitely not haunted._  
He thought to himself, checking his phone to make sure it was the right address.

 _”Text me when you get there. Love you, Evan!”_  
The text from his mom was below the address, and Evan smiled before letting her know he had arrived.  
He pocketed his phone, then let out a sigh.  
“Alright,”  
He mumbled under his breath,  
“Let’s get inside.”

Keys fit into the lock before the door clicked open.  
Evan opened the door with a hair-raising creak.  
The lights were off, and when he flicked the light switch it stayed dark.  
“Great,”  
He commented to himself.  
“Let’s find the generator.”

 

Evan headed around the back of the cabin, finding an ancient-looking generator almost hidden in weeds.  
He flicked a few breakers, then with a sputtering whir, it stuttered to life.  
The lights flickered on through the window.  
A shadow passed through the beam of light.  
Evan blinked, looking at the golden ray.  
_Great, now I'm seeing things._  
He grumbled internally, rolling his eyes.

He headed back toward the front door before locking it behind him.  
The smell of old coffee washed through the single-story building.  
A grandfather clock stood in the living room, it's tick-tocking sounding almost too loud for the silent house.  
It had been his grandparent's house, stocked full of cards and board games from all the grandchildren that had filled its rooms.  
An old tv sat on a chest, the bulging screen cracked and refusing power.  
Evan tugged in his suitcases before sitting them beside the old sofa.  
When he sat down, dust flew from the cushions.

Evan coughed at the dirt, swatting it away from him as it settled again.  
The ticking of the grandfather clock was the only sound in the cabin.  
"Stupid old furniture,"  
He sputtered.  
When the dust settled, Evan looked around the room.  
He could listen to music, but his mother had sent him out here to disconnect from the world for a few days.  
Besides, she would be arriving the next afternoon, and then they could play games together, go on hikes, etc.  
For now, Evan could handle not relying on music to entertain himself.

He opened a window, letting the chirps of birds and rustle of leaves fill the house.  
_There,_  
He thought with a smile.  
_Now it's not so quiet._  
He could feel his shoulders relax, not realizing how tense he was.

"Alright,"  
He said aloud, looking around at the small kitchen and living room.  
"Time for the smallest house tour."

There were three doors that opened up on the wall behind the tv, the door closest to the kitchen being a bathroom.  
It was small, like everything else, with hardly enough room for a toilet, sink, and shower.  
"Cozy..."  
Evan said to himself before closing the door.

The next door was a bedroom.  
When Evan opened the door, he was greeted by a tall queen-sized mattress coated in several hundred different types of blankets.  
At least five differently sized pillows rested against the headboard.

Evan stepped into the room, the smell of rustic wood almost immediately enveloping him.  
He kinda liked it, it felt homey.  
Although, after taking a few more steps into the room and looking at the shelves that lined the wall, he immediately dashed that thought.  
At least a dozen glass dolls lined the walls, all of them almost staring into Evan's soul.  
"Aaaaand I'm sleeping on the couch."  
He said curtly.  
He back-tracked out of the room, closing the door behind him.  
When the door closed, a stack of cards flew into the air.  
The trees rustled louder.  
The grandfather continued its ticking.

"Just a breeze."  
Evan reasoned, picking up the scattered cards.  
When he finished, he stacked them carefully back with the rest.  
"I'll organize them later,"  
He told himself, before heading toward the last door.  
It was another bedroom, but this one had a distinct lack of dolls.  
"I'll let mom have the non-haunted room."  
Evan said to himself with a chuckle.  
As he was closing the door, a lamp that had been sitting on the nightstand toppled to the floor.  
Evan blinked at the light fixture in surprise.  
"That wasn't me,"  
He scoffed before closing the door.

The lights flickered.  
Evan could hear the generator letting out a mechanical groan before it stabilized itself, the lights being restored to their full power.  
"Weird,"  
Evan commented.  
A crash came from the doll room, and when Evan opened the door a doll was shattered on the ground.  
Her disembodied head was staring at him.  
The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he quickly slammed the door shut.

"Calm down Evan, you can't go crazy yet."  
He said to himself, looking back around the conjoined kitchen and living room.  
The grandfather clock ticked.  
He saw the stack of cards of the coffee table, and walked toward them.  
"Let's get these sorted."

He sat down on the sofa, careful to not disrupt too much dust again.  
Then, as he reached for a deck of cards, his suitcase flew into the wall, opening and scattering his clothes everywhere.  
"What the-"  
Pain sliced down his arm, and Evan watched the thin line of blood climb up to his elbow.  
Evan let out a yelp and pulled his arm back toward his body.  
Blood seeped between his fingers.  
The wind kicked up outside, tugging at his hair.  
"Who's there?!"  
Evan shouted, looking around the room.

Cards flew into the air.  
The sound of glass breaking echoed through both bedrooms.  
The grandfather clock began to chime.  
Cupboards flew open in the kitchen.  
Floral china fell to the floor.  
A glass plate hovered in the air before being thrown toward Evan's head.  
He narrowly dodged the shards as it shattered on the wall behind him.

Evan gasped in pain as blood spurted from his shoulder.  
Fanged bite marks leaked crimson.  
Scratches tore at his skin, leaving lengthy gashes down his arms.  
Evan let out a scream of pain.

The tv flickered on.  
A VHS tape flickered to life.  
It showed someone recording what looked like one of the glass dolls.  
The same doll that had shattered to the floor.  
It was hovering in the air, the person holding the camera speaking in indistinguishable static.  
The doll was thrown at the camera before the tv fell to static and blinked off.

Evan crawled to his feet, holding both of his arms to stop the thin lines of blood from leaking.  
Crimson dripped on the rug carpet.  
"What do you want from me?!"  
Evan screamed.  
He heard the whisper of a knife.  
He turned around.  
A knife hovered in front of him.

Blood smeared on the walls.  
His blood.  
Evan felt dizzy.  
_“Out of time!”_  
The blood read.

The grandfather clock chimed again.  
Evan counted the chimes.  
_Thirteen…_

The knife buried in flesh.  
The generator coughed before powering off.  
The grandfather clock stopped ticking.


	15. Frozen

Day 15: Apocalypse

The skies were a dark, foreboding grey.  
The clouds suffocated the Earth.  
Skyscrapers leaned over meadows of rubble.  
Highways splintered like toothpicks.  
Bars of rusted iron and steel stuck out of crumbling buildings like rotting snaggleteeth.

Blackened trees shrouded what dying greenery there was in the depths of the forest.  
No one dared to enter.  
Predators were as desperate as the people.

Snow blanketed the wasteland in dappled heaps.  
Ash blotted out what remained of color.  
Charred telephone poles stood like pen strokes in the sky.  
Smoke chained itself to the clouds.

No corpses remained in the streets.  
Handfuls of snow were scratched away.  
Those that lived survived with what they could carry.  
If you stayed in one place it meant certain death from the hordes of cannibalistic scavengers.  
The despairing were drained of their humanity.

Evan crept quickly between crumbling structures.  
His ears strained as he attempted to stay as quiet as possible.  
Ash coated his already grey clothing, a scarf covering his nose and mouth.   
He scanned the surrounding wasteland before scurrying into a pile of rubble.

He had managed to find the small, hollowed out room a few days ago, and by the dread that filled his gut he knew he’d need to move again soon.  
Another scavenge for food had turned up empty.  
Evan sighed, pulling his beanie down over his ears.

There was just enough space in in the room for another person, and until a week ago the two would’ve shared their heat.  
He ran a finger down the scarf that wrapped around his neck.  
It still held a faint smell of Tyler.

He wanted to cry.  
To sob and scream until the life on the planet was restored.  
Until his friends returned.  
Until Tyler’s frozen body in the woods somewhere took another breath.

However, his tear ducts were empty, and whatever tears he had left were frozen.  
Like the rest of the land.

His fingers had long since lost their touch.  
The color had faded from his skin and his eyes had dulled from their coffee warmth.  
His body had given up shivering.

Evan glanced at the few pieces of icy timber beside him.  
Even if he somehow managed to thaw the wood, the smoke would shine like a beacon; drawing scavenger hordes toward him like moths to a flame.

Evan leaned his head against a steel bar behind him.  
His mind felt foggy.  
His eyelashes pulled his eyelids down like icicles.

“Evan.”  
The frozen survivor blinked his eyes open, a gasp leaving his blue lips.

Tyler stood in front of him, his skin a healthy pink and eyes a shimmering blue.  
He wore a loose gray hoodie, the same thing he had worn after giving all his warmth to Evan.  
“Ty...”  
Evan breathed. He stood up quickly, his feet feeling light.  
Tyler seemed to radiate heat, and Evan engulfed the taller in his frozen arms.  
Tyler wrapped his arms around him too, and Evan felt perfect warmth ebb into his body.  
Evan pulled away slightly.  
He could no longer feel the claws of the frozen world.

“I missed you…”  
A tear glistened down his cheek.  
Tyler smirked.  
“I missed you too.”  
Tyler pulled him into a slow kiss.  
Evan never felt happier.


	16. Fuck That

Day 16: Dolls

The weather itself seemed uneasy.  
Fog snaked around buildings and cars.  
A sense of dread seemed to hang in the air.  
A thin rain had fallen earlier in the morning.

Mason was ruffly awoken to the doorbell.  
He sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes with his palms.  
His body felt like lead.  
The doorbell rang again.  
Mason grumbled, picking himself up and heading toward the door.  
He opened it, a box sitting on his doorstep.  
Mason looked around, then down at the box.  
His name was written clearly above his address, and looking at the sender’s information he scoffed.  
“Fuckin’ Fitz.”  
He mumbled with a smile.  
He picked the box up, shutting the door and dropping the box on the table.  
He could remember Fitz mentioning the early gift for his birthday. According to him it was a once-in-a-lifetime purchase and it had seemed perfect for Mason.  
He grabbed a knife and cut the box open.

He rustled around in the packing peanuts before pulling out a porcelain doll.  
She didn’t seem to have any sort of box, which Mason quickly shrugged away as he took in her appearance.  
She had swirled brown hair, and a cream and black dress.  
Her skin was pale and chipping, her eyes vacant black pits.  
A chill shivered down his spine.  
He dropped the doll back into the box and pulled out his phone, tapping on Cam’s number.  
 _”Fitz what the fuck?!”_  
He typed out, trying not to look at the doll.  
He knew it was intended to be creepy, and it fucking succeeded.  
 _”What?”_  
Fitz responded. Mason scowled at his phone.  
 _”A fucking doll??”_  
 _”Lmao isn’t it creepy?”_  
Mason groaned.  
 _”Of course it’s creepy! Why send it to me?”_  
The three dots stared at Mason as Cam typed.  
 _”Idk, I just felt like I should send it to you.”_  
Mason was about to begin typing again when Cam sent another text.  
 _”Enjoy your doll lol. Going to record.”_  
Mason let out an angry huff of air, looking back at the doll in the box.  
“Fuck that.”  
He spat, closing the box back up and dropping it beside the front door.  
“I’ll toss it later. I’m going back to sleep.”  
He mumbled to himself, stumbling back into his room.

As soon as he reached the door he heard something fall.  
He turned to look behind him, the hallway only showing him into the kitchen.  
He couldn’t see the front door.  
 _What if it’s that doll?_  
He shook his head.  
It wasn’t haunted, just creepy.  
He’d get rid of it later.  
He turned back toward his room, collapsing face first on the bed.  
He crawled under the blankets and quickly ebbed back into sleep.

There was a clatter.  
Mason blinked his eyes open, but didn’t have enough will to sit up.  
A breeze tickled the back of his neck.  
Mason whipped around, practically leaping from his covers to his feet.  
The doll was sitting where he had just been laying.

“Fuck that.”  
Mason hissed to himself.  
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.”  
His hands were shaking.  
He really hoped this was some drug affecting him, but he couldn’t remember taking anything since the weed the night before.  
 _Maybe I’m still high?_  
He looked back at the doll.  
Had it moved closer?  
Mason rubbed his temples.  
A dull ache was pulling at his head, like it was preparing him for a migraine.  
The doll had moved halfway across the bed.

He was seeing things.  
Mason was sure.  
There was no way in fuck this doll was actually moving.  
It was an illusion.  
His schizophrenia.  
Drugs?

The doll was at the foot of the bed, within inches of his shaking hands.  
He was frantically grasping for an explanation.  
Desperation and dread was steadily filling his veins.  
“What are you?”  
Mason whispered, staring at the doll’s vacant eyes.  
There was a scraping sound as the doll smiled.  
Her small black lips pulled past her cracked cheeks.  
“ **Hungry**.”  
She growled.

Mason screamed as shattered porcelain teeth burrowed in his arm.  
Blood sprayed the walls.  
A ceaseless giggling filled the house.  
The crunching of bones echoed numbly.


	17. Poison

Day 17: Utopia/ Dystopia

The sky was a crystal clear blue.  
State-of-the-art, flying cars soared through the calm cerulean.  
They almost looked out of place weaving between the skyscrapers that have stood since the 1960s.  
Streamlined trains darted over tracks.  
Holograms branched out of phones.

Everything had stayed the same, and yet it had still advanced with the technology.  
People still marched the sidewalks of the city.  
Advertisements flashed on the sides of buses and buildings.

A figure in a black hoodie went against the current of people on the sidewalks.  
The people in front of him parted like the Red Sea to let him through.  
No one paid him a second glance.

Bluetooth earbuds hung in his ears, pumping music through his head like blood.  
An owl emblem shone on the back of the hoodie.  
Dark eyes scanned the people in front of him, black hair almost hidden in the hood.

Nobody knew their world was changing.  
Or maybe they did, and didn’t care.

The agreements that no one read requested more information.  
The face and fingerprint recognition began to sift away their identity.  
Everyone knew where everyone was and knew what they were doing.  
Life wasn’t secretive.

Evan saw another man glance at him.  
Blue eyes scanned him for a moment.  
A pig emblem shone on the back of his black hoodie.  
Neither of them glanced back.

Their numbers were few and dwindling.  
Brock had gotten caught last week.

Evan reached the end of the sidewalk.  
Self-driving cars halted as he continued onto the road.  
The people inside didn’t notice the delay as they swung virtual golf clubs.

Evan reached the other side to a coffee shop.  
Not many people were inside, most of their customers ordered delivery.  
He paused, watching a barista pour a small vile into the cup.  
Evan scowled before stomping off.

No one had questioned the extra ingredient that had been added to their drinks.  
No one had seen it buried in another page of “terms and conditions”.  
Evan saw another black hoodie edge his vision.  
A teddy bear emblem backed his blue eyes.  
The man took a sip from from a water bottle.  
It was the only thing not contaminated.  
“How much now?”  
He mumbled, glancing at Evan.  
“Looked like half the bottle. I think They upped the dose.”  
Jonathan shook his head.  
“That’s the second time this month. They’re moving quicker.”  
Evan glanced back at the coffee shop.  
A camera scanned the road above the door.  
It paused, staring at him.  
“Let’s go.”  
Evan said curtly. Jonathan glanced at the camera before continuing in the opposite direction.

The people didn’t question anything anymore.  
Other countries began wondering how They had gotten away with so much without retaliation.

There was a whir of a drone behind him.  
“Damn it…”  
Evan swore under his breath, taking quicker steps.  
The people continued to part in front of him, he saw a black hoodie duck to merge with the crowd.

Evan began to run.  
Another drone joined the chase.  
Evan swerved into an alley, whirling to face the drones as they hovered in front of him.

“You’re feeding them POISON!”  
Evan spat, glaring at the cameras that turned to face him.  
“Our numbers may be few, but we refuse to listen! We refuse to sign away our lives!”

There was a click.  
Evan gasped as a dart hit his arm.  
The poison filled his blood.  
“No..”  
He gasped, pulling the hoodie off.  
He refused to betray his friends.  
Never again.  
Not after Ryan.

Static crackled over his earbuds.  
His thoughts were fading away.  
“Welcome, Evan...  
The female voice said sweetly.  
He could taste coffee.  
“...to a life of tranquility.”

His muscles relaxed.  
A calm, pulsing beat filled his ears.  
Holograms blossomed from his phone.  
Evan smiled as he walked from the alley, a white t-shirt hugging his body.  
He walked down the sidewalk, blending in with the crowd.

\---

Jonathan watched Evan go down the street.  
A tear slid down his cheek.  
He touched his earbud, contacting the rest of the rebellion.  
“We lost Evan.”


	18. Friends

Day 18: Carnival

The night was full of shrill shrieks and screams.  
The moon was drowned in ink, the aether blackened to the point of blindness.  
A carnival lay hidden in a forest, illuminating the surrounding trees.

Yellow and orange lights blinked playfully.  
A Ferris wheel made of rotten wood spun gleefully.  
Inhuman children ran excitedly through play houses.  
Human limbs and fried intestines filled booths to fill the monster’s bellies.  
Black cats and crows let out persistent calls as they awaited some ghoul to win them in a game of ring toss.

The owner of the corrupted carnival stood proudly beside the entrance gate.  
His rainbow-colored body swirled as he watched the monster families and children run around excitedly.  
His fanged teeth flashed as he laughed at a zombie child cry about her arm falling off.

There was a creak as the rusty gate opened a bit farther.  
Fitz turned a curious gaze toward the gate, seeing a small boy looking around cautiously.  
He was human.  
His pale fingers trembled as he looked around the carnival.

“Jay?”  
The boy called out, his eyes darting forward and back through the crowd of monsters.  
Fitz smiled.  
_Curious…_  
“Looking for someone?”  
Fitz asked the boy, taking a step toward him.  
The boy looked up at him, his voice shaking.  
“H-have you seen a-a boy named Jay?”  
He stuttered, watching Fitz expectantly.  
Fitz lifted a colored hand and thought.  
He could recall seeing a young ghost run around the house of mirrors…  
¨Perhaps, follow me.¨  
Fitz began taking slow, measured steps toward the towering building, glancing back occasionally to ensure that the boy was both following and alive.

Finally, they reached the rickety building that was filled with mold and spiderwebs.  
Cracked mirrors reflected false images.  
Fitz paused near the entrance, giving the boy a fanged smile before waving him inside.  
The boy watched him for a moment before walking into the building.  
Fitz followed him in silence.

It was easy finding the ghost.  
The phantom was moving slowly as it followed a mouse scamper around the floorboards.  
¨Jay!¨  
The living boy cried, running toward the specter.

The ghost looked up at the living boy, a curious look in his partially-visible eyes.  
¨Mason?¨  
He asked softly. Mason, who had been about to hug his friend, hesitated.  
¨J-Jay? What happened?¨  
¨Mason! You should stay here with me! I've been so bored and-¨  
¨I...I have to go home.¨  
Fitz watched the two with narrowed sight.  
Mason tried to take a step back but Jay stopped him.  
¨Please, Mason!¨  
Mason was shaking again.  
The ghost looked pleadingly at Fitz.

**

Fitz smiled as he watched the two ghosts run toward the Ferris wheel.  
The colorful owner of the carnival tossed a corpse to the vendors.  
He licked his bloody teeth.  
He loved watching kids play in his carnival.


	19. Amber Eyes

Day 19: Witches

The small town was quiet.  
A newborn sun bleached the buildings a pale gold.  
Wood and brick buildings stood hauntingly against the young sky.  
Green and yellow sprouts blistered from plantations.

In the town square, a gallows stood erect.  
Strands of the frayed rope swirled in the morning breeze.  
A black cat with amber eyes watched the rope swing slowly.

A small boy played by a river his mother told him to stay away from.  
His friends pushed him in.  
The amber eyes watched them.

The boy returned home to be scolded by his mother.  
She knew Mason was better than this.  
The black cat licked water off its paws.

Mason ran through a field of wishing flowers.  
Their fluff filed his nose and made him sneeze.  
Amber eyes followed his form as the delicate seeds hovered in the air.

A black shadow slunk around the base of a tree as a boy let out a frightened shriek.  
Small fingers clung to branches as his vest fluttered around him.  
The wind was pulling him into the clouds.  
Mason watched with wide eyes, his skin pale in terror as the cat brushed his leg.  
Amber eyes flickered over screaming parents.

Torches burned the night sky.  
A trembling boy huddled in an icy room.  
Tears drowned his face as the people prepared the rope.  
Amber eyes warmed his shivering husk.

A bleeding sun scorched the sky.  
A boy wore a necklace woven with fear.  
The town square was void of people except for amber eyes,  
That watched its master hang.


	20. Decisions

Day 20: Ghost Investigators

The small house was crowded by a kind neighborhood.  
Wind chimes tickled the night breeze.

A truck was parked outside, the name _Paranormal Investigators_ printed in large letters.  
Inside the house, two men stalked the cramped space between living room and kitchen.  
The day had welcomed no new experiences, no trace of the haunter until the sun set.  
That was when Jonathan could see the small boy, huddled beside the fireplace as he watched the two men.  
Jonathan told Luke where the child sat.

Jon wasn’t sure how long he spoke to the child, but he had gotten a name: Evan.  
The small boy had been looking for owls with his dad until his father drained him of blood.  
Jonathan could see the kitchen knife still embedded in the boy’s back.

It wasn’t until around midnight that Jonathan tried sending the spirit off.  
That was when it had grown aggressive.

“What do you mean he’s throwing a tantrum?”  
Luke hissed as he narrowly avoided another mug that shattered on the wall behind him.  
“I mean, he refuses to leave without getting justice!”  
Jonathan spat, rolling out of the way of a ragdoll that came shooting toward him.  
“And how does he expect justice?”  
Luke questioned from behind the sofa.  
Jonathan didn’t speak, or look up from the wood floors.  
Evan had told him what he wanted Jonathan to do.

The previously divorced (and now remarried) couple that owned the house were the boy’s parents.  
The mother believed her son had been killed in a car accident, with her drunk husband driving, resulting in their temporary divorce.  
It wasn’t until recently that the husband had returned to the home.  
The same time the ghost had grown violent.

Jonathan felt a shiver pulse through his body as he repeated the ghost’s words in his head.  
_”Kill my father for me.”_  
When Jonathan had refused, the boy lashed out.

However, the crashing of glass seemed to have quieted.  
Jonathan couldn’t hear Evan’s piercing shrieks.  
“I think he stopped…”  
Luke whispered, peering over the couch.  
When Jonathan turned to look at him, his heart skipped a beat.  
Evan was hovering beside Luke, his smile pulling past what was normal.  
His dark eyes were now blackened pits.  
_”Last chance Jonny boy~.”_  
Evan sang, inching toward the bearded man.  
“Duck, Luke!”  
Jonathan snapped, ignoring the disappointed glint that flashed from the ghost.  
Luke turned toward Jonathan, confusion thick in his voice.  
“What?”  
Evan surged toward Luke.

When he made contact, the two converged, Luke’s body convulsing and choking as the spirit took control. Finally, his thrashing stopped, and Luke’s body slowly sat up from where it had fallen limp.  
Ever so slowly, he faced Jonathan, his once dark eyes now empty and white with sightlessness.  
“decIsIONS, dEcIsIOns, JOnATHan…”  
The voice that emerged from the body was hollow and crooked, edged with Evan’s haunting tone.  
“wilL YoU TaKe MY ofFeR?”  
“W-What offer?”  
Jonathan croaked, trying and failing at swallowing his fear.  
The eerie, possessed body let out a dark chuckle.  
“bUry tHe knife THAt ENdED My LiFe In tHe HEart Of MY fATHER, Or yOUr BrothEr wilL jOin THE hEAVeNLy CHoiR.”  
Jonathan swallowed, emotions swirling around like a hurricane.  
The main one was fear.  
“So,”  
Asked the tormented corpse,  
“whAt wiLL it be?”


	21. Anthrophobia

Day 21: Phobias

_Anthrophobia- Fear of flowers._

The sky was almost white.  
Grey streaked through the mask of flat clouds.  
A flock of birds scattered through the sky.

Grasses and leaves rustled in the nearby glade.  
A patch of wildflowers waved as a butterfly landed gently upon one.  
It fluttered away at the sound of footsteps.

A young man walked along the thin trail of concrete.  
A breeze tugged at his raven hair.  
He glanced at the patch of wildflowers, internally grateful that they were so far off the path.  
A dandelion grew along the edge, and he swerved to put as much space as possible between him and the flower.

He wasn’t scared of them, more of they made him uncomfortable.  
There was only one that made his heart pound and fingers shake.  
And he would’ve given anything for it to be a less common blossom.

 _“Evan, I wanted to give you this.”_  
The young man cringed at the memory.  
How he had dashed away from the man all because of a stupid flower.  
Tyler was probably still standing there.

Evan almost wanted to turn around and look, but he couldn’t risk it.  
What if he was still holding the flower?  
But what if Tyler shared his feelings?

Evan chewed on his bottom lip, hoping to wear it raw.  
Maybe it would take his mind off of the blossom.

He could remember Brock asking why he had freaked out when he had gotten the cursed flower from Brian.  
Evan hadn’t realized he had this fear until Brock had brought it up, and that evening they sat together and Evan spilled everything.

From his mother to the failed relationship with a girl.  
Both of them corrupted by the flower.  
The bloody rose.

Evan felt ice climb his spine just imagining the vase full of the flowers.  
They had watched him as he cried.  
They had wilted when he recovered.  
They were cursed, and he was sure of it.

His first boyfriend, Jonathan, had been wonderful until he moved away.  
He had told Evan as he gave him a rose.

Tears slid down his cheeks as Evan stopped walking.  
His breathing was heavy and his heart beat erratically.

Tyler was leaning against the door to the dorm room, watching a patch of daisies before looking at Evan.  
He cleared his throat before speaking.  
“Brock told me.”  
He said quietly.  
Evan couldn’t speak.  
There was no droplets of scarlet that hung from a green stem.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”  
Tyler apologized, dropping his blue gaze to his shoes.  
Evan smiled weakly, finally finding his voice.  
“I-It’s fine. I-I-It’s dumb.”  
Tyler sighed, looking back at Evan.  
“I don’t care if it is or not, I should have known. Especially because I like you.”  
Evan felt his heart skip a beat.  
A blush burned his cheeks and ears.  
“W-what?”  
Tyler smirked, taking a step toward Evan.  
His icy blue eyes seemed to engulf the smaller.

“Evan, I think I’m in love with you.”  
Evan couldn’t stop the grin that pulled his lips or the throbbing of his chest.  
“Me too.”  
Evan said softly.  
Tyler chuckled, pulling Evan closer.

His thumb gently brushed forgotten tears off Evan’s cheek.  
They closed their eyes as their lips touched.  
A crushed rose wilted in a trash can.


	22. Fireflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped days 22-24 because I could not come up with an idea that I was happy with in time for the challenge.  
> (Day 22: Cosmic Horror; Day 23: Costumes, Day 24: Seances)  
> If you would like me to come back to these prompts and write something later, (Or perhaps give me ideas) I would be happy to! Just let me know!  
> Now for day 25...

Day 25: Demons

Grasses and leaves rustled in a cool night breeze.  
The full moon illuminated the backyards of the distanced neighborhood.  
Crickets let out infrequent chirps.

A raven-haired man sat on the porch, eyes lazily drinking in the night.  
He let out a relaxed sigh as he sunk deeper into his chair.  
Evan had always liked fireflies.  
And out here, in the country fields of his small town, he was glad he could finally see the small insects up close.  
He had tried to catch a few of them, usually too worried he’ll hurt them to go through with their capture.

Tonight, he watched a few of them blink as he took a deep breath of the cool night.  
He loved just sitting outside, taking a break from whatever was happening and just losing himself in nature.  
It had become one of his nighttime traditions.

Evan watched as two fireflies hovered near the edge of his backyard.  
They seemed to be blinking in near unison, something he had never seen before.  
Perhaps they were performing some sort of mating dance?  
Evan watched the two fireflies until his eyelids drooped.

The next evening, Evan walked out to his porch again.  
He hadn’t meant to fall asleep outside the night prior, but in case he did, he brought out a soft blanket to keep him warm.

Again, he watched the sun bleed over the clouds and the inky night drip into the aether.  
The crickets chirped.  
Fireflies danced.

Evan found the twin fireflies again, this time closer.  
They were near a large tree that was about 6 meters away from the porch.  
He smiled as he witnessed their silent ceremony.  
His breathing slowed and eyelids sank heavy.

Evan stared out over the porch the following evening.  
He had grown excited for the shrinking moon to flutter into the sky, like a dove seeking shelter.  
He searched for the fireflies, finding the occasional glimmer a meter or 3 away.  
Finally, he spotted them.  
Only half a meter stood between them and the end of Evan’s porch.  
He watched with a relaxed smirk.  
The crickets had quieted closer to him, although he could hear them a distance away.  
Something rustled the nearby grasses.

Evan, his eyelids already falling, sat upright.  
The muted light from the house seemed to avoid spilling over the fireflies.  
Evan stood up, peering over the edge of his porch to spot what had rustled the grass.  
Only the fireflies remained, although they hadn’t blinked off in a while….  
Evan squinted at the fireflies, trying to listen to the quiet hum of their wings or their small forms watching him quizzically.

However, now he could only see their glow.  
He could hear labored breathing, the hair on his arms and neck spiking in alarm.  
Evan took a step back, nearly tripping over his chair.  
The sound of claws tearing wood burned his ears.  
The crickets fell quiet.


	23. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped day 26 (In The Woods) too.  
> I feel really bad for skipping them, but my brain is fried, it's 11:54pm, and I've written more shorts I actually like.  
> Enjoy day 27!

Day 27: Dreams

A world plunged into flickering darkness.  
Shadows that edged people’s vision.  
The chill down their spine.  
Breathing on their neck.

Able to vanish into the ink of shadows, the monsters grabbed their prey and lead them to their deaths.  
Corpses became carriers of the plague.  
They moved and spoke like their human versions, replicating their victims and how they thought until the moment was right.

No one knew what to call them, although the common term was “Shadows”.  
That was how they seemed, how they appeared until they could find a new host.  
A host to spread their kind until all of humanity was wiped out.

It felt like the zombie apocalypse, but instead of molding bodies it was friends and family.  
Nothing and nowhere was safe.

The dwindling survivors discovered that one could tell when a Shadow was close by the figures at the edges of your vision, and seemingly endless nightmares.  
However, if the nightmares reached your waking mind, it was too late.

Toby had known that.  
He had known and taken precautions to avoid the corners of the room.  
He had known the neighborhood had been infected with Shadows, it was evident by the occasional knock on the door that begged to be let in, until the creatures grew desperate and tried to tear the door down to no avail.  
And he didn’t need to leave, he had food, water, shelter, and Cameron, his best friend and love who he had fled to after the Shadows were proved to be real.

So, why hadn’t he realized?

It had only been two weeks since Toby had run to Cameron’s house, and after spending a few silent nights of listening to shrieks and growls, they were finally growing somewhat comfortable with their new reality.  
Cameron had even had a successful supply run the week prior.

Toby was lying his head on Cameron’s lap, the two of them watching some children’s movie that was on some random channel.  
Cameron was asleep, and snoring peacefully.  
Toby smiled, trying to keep his tired eyes on the cartoon.  
He didn’t want to sleep.  
He didn’t want to return to the nightmares he had been experiencing since Cam had left.  
He didn’t want to think about the truth of what they could mean.

Cameron sighed, then slowly blinked his eyes open before looking down at Toby.  
“Hey babe,”  
He muttered groggily, pressing a gentle kiss to the New Zealander’s temple.   
“Sleep well?”  
Toby asked, shifting to look at Cameron. Cam smiled.  
“Of course, how about you?”  
Toby’s smile faltered as he rolled to look back at the movie.  
“I’ve...been better.”  
There was a long pause before Cameron spoke again.  
“Nightmares?”  
Toby nodded slightly.  
Cameron sighed.  
“Tobes, I need to tell you something.”  
Toby sat up quickly, staring worriedly at Cam’s ocean eyes.  
Dread was already filling his gut.  
“What?”  
Cameron let out a small sigh and turned his head away. His hands were trembling.  
Toby could feel tears begin to prick his eyes, and he shushed Cam before he could continue.  
He didn’t want to admit he had been right.  
He wanted so badly to be wrong.

“Don’t say anything, just let me kiss him one more time.”  
Toby gently tugged Cam’s face back toward him, making sure his eyes were closed.  
Then, he pressed their lips together, feeling Cameron move in rhythm with him.  
Tears streaked down Toby’s face.

Toby kept his eyes closed as monsters burned the inside of his eyelids.  
He clenched his eyes shut as shadows shifted over his skin.  
He tried to imagine he was kissing the real Cam, and not the monster that pretended to be him.


	24. “Humans Can Lick Too”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I chose this Urban Legend because it is one of the few I actually learned as a child and the only one that has stuck with me all these years.  
> *Note- I do NOT condone animal abuse. The death of an animal just happens to be the main turning point of the story.*

Day 28: Urban Legends

The night was cold and empty.  
Crickets chirped outside, but their nightly songs didn’t seem to settle any nerves.

The entire community was on high alert after hearing about the escaped convict, and all had been instructed to lock every door and window.  
Brian had double and triple checked every window and door in his house to ensure his safety, and all of them bolted closed except for one small window in the bathroom.  
It shut, thankfully, but the lock refused to click into place no matter how hard he tried to shift it.

His hands cramping and giving up, Brian left the window closed and prepared himself for bed.  
As he was about to crawl under the blankets when he heard a whine from his dog, Joe.  
The black and white dog slunk into his room, clearly knowing he wasn’t supposed to come in, but being unnerved to do so anyway.  
Brian wondered if Joe could sense his fear.   
“Fine, Joe. You can sleep in here, just not on the bed.”

Joe scampered quickly under his bed, and when Brian reached down to pet him, Joe licked his hand.  
Brian smiled, then relaxed into his bed.

Around 1 am Brian was woken by the sound of something dripping.  
In his groggy mindset he thought he could’ve left the sink on in the bathroom, but didn’t want to get up to check.  
He reached under his bed and felt Joe lick his hand before falling back asleep.

When the sun finally rose again, it painted the town a pale yellow.  
Birds called in the distance.  
Brian blinked his eyes open and stretched as his mind cleared itself of fog.   
He looked around his room, and upon remembering Joe under his bed last night, reached down.  
However, Joe didn’t lick his hand.  
“Ah, he finally fell asleep.”  
Brian said with a chuckle.

He stood and headed toward the bathroom, yawning as he stepped into the cool room.  
The dripping sound was louder.  
He flicked on the light and his body froze..

Joe was hanging from the shower rod, his curly fur soaked in blood and entrails grazing the floor.  
Brian felt bile burn his throat as he retched into the sink.  
When he looked up, a message written in blood glazed the mirror:  
“ _Humans can lick too._ ”


	25. Artist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING* -EXTREME GORE-

Day 29: Gore

The sky was black.  
Void of variant, void of the moon, and void of stars.  
It seemed like an endless pool of ink.  
A perfect vat of ink for a pen.

Scarlet splattered the walls like an intricate art piece.  
Intestines wrapped around corpses like expensive scarfs.  
Skulls were crushed beyond recognition.

Only one man stood in the pile of bodies.  
Only one man wore a dripping mask.

Delirious.  
He had enjoyed that name.  
Reaching the point of insanity that reality became nothing but a 2D frame of reference.  
Maybe that would be what he would tell the cops.

The blue hoodie he wore was strained crimson with blood to the point of being a dark purple.  
He licked the blood off of his lips.  
It was salty, the slightest bit sweet.  
Oh how he enjoyed it.

A heart was pinned to the wall with a knife.  
Several strings of intestines were stuck to walls, like dripping lazors that branched across the room.  
A hammer was stuck through someone’s skull and the floor.  
The tenants below had called 911 after blood dripped from their ceiling.  
Dull knives had sawed off limbs and poor stitching held them together in the wrong places.  
A cup of eyes sat atop the counter in the kitchen.  
Bleeding handprints smeared the door.  
Desperate claw marks were ingrained in the wooden floors.

The curdling screams had sang like a melody.  
The pounding music split eardrums until blood flowed like rivers.  
One corpse had screwdrivers through their temples.  
A machete was plunged through someone’s heart and through the wall.

He could see the meaning behind each flick of his wrist.  
Behind each broken bone and sliced out organ.  
Each droplet of blood had a place.  
Each corpse marked the timeline.

Delirious twitched at the sound of the door opening.  
They were going to ruin his artwork.  
His one piece of work he would forever be proud of.

“Freeze!”  
Screamed an officer, pointing a gun at the bloodied man in the center.  
Delirious smiled, his arm raising and a bullet splattering blood across the canvas.  
The officer crumpled like paper.  
He would make a fantastic addition.

His favorite color was crimson.  
He loved the rosy color that dripped from the knife in his hand.  
He liked using the sharpened edge to carve smiles into his artwork.  
He liked carving out organs and adding them to the perfect piece.

For his name was Delirious,  
And he painted with blood.


End file.
